LIBRARY 

OF  THK 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALS WORTH. 

Recewed  October,  1894. 
Accessions  No .  S^^i  ft(    -      Clan's  No. 


MEMORIALS 


THE    LIFE    AND    TRIALS 


A  YOUTHFUL   CHKISTIAN 


IN  PURSUIT  OF  HEALTH,  AS    DEVELOPED  IN  THE    BIOGRAPHY 
OF   NATHANIEL   CHESTER,    M.D. 


BY    REV.    HENRY    T.    CHEEVER, 

ATTTHOB  OF  "  THK  WHALE  AND  HIS  CAPTORS,"   "ISLAND   WORLD  OF  THE  PACIFIC,' 
"LIFE  IN  THE  SANDWICH  LSLANDS,"  ETC. 


WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION, 

BY  REV.  GEORGE  B.  CHEEVER,  D.D. 


NEW  YOEK : 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER,  145  NASSAU  STREET. 
1851. 


__ 

Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1851,  by 

CIIAKLES    SCEIBNER, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


C.    W.    BENEDICT, 

STEREOTYPES    AND    PRINTER, 
201  William  Street. 


TO 


(to  UftaJi  iraii  limnttrA  3$ntliBr, 

THESE    MEMORIALS 


JDebkateir. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 
INTRODUCTION    BY    REV.    DR.    CHEEVER,  .  .       vii 

CHAPTER   I. 

INTRODUCTORY    SKETCHES    OF     EARLY    HISTORY,    SUFFER 
INGS,  AND    TRAITS    OF     CHARACTER,        .     '     ,.'  .  .9 

CHAPTER   II. 

YOUTHFUL     DIARY,    RELIGIOUS    LIFE     AND  CONSECRATION, 

BEING  AN  EXEMPLIFICATION  OF    GRACE    IN  THE  BUD,       .       33 

CHAPTER    III 

LETTERS  AND  MEMORIALS  OF  YOUTH,  AND  EARLY  MAN 
HOOD,      ........      52 

CHAPTER,   IV. 

WAY-MARKS     OF     INTELLECTUAL     AND    MORAL    PROGRESS,       83 


11  CONTENTS. 

PAOB 

CHAPTER    V. 

LIFE    AND    OBSERVATIONS    AT    GIBRALTAR,     MALAGA,    AND 

MARSEILLES,  .  .  .  .  .  .          .  .111 

CHAPTER  VI. 

LIFE      AND     EXPERIENCE     ON     THE     OCEAN     AND     AT     NEW 

ORLEANS,  .  .  .  ,  .  .  .  -    ,138 

CHAPTER   VII. 

FORMATION      OF      CHARACTER,     THOUGH      SUFFERING       AT 

HOME    AND    ABROAD,  .  .  .  .  .  .162 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

ILLUSTRATIONS    OF     SOCIETY,   MANNERS,  AND     MORALS     IN 

SPAIN,        .  ^    "  ^.          .    .  ...        .  .-,  ,  .182 

CHAPTER   IX. 

THE  INTRIGUE THE  ASSASSINATION,  AND  THE  PUNISH 
MENT 197 

CHAPTER   X. 

THE    CHURCH THE     MARKET — THE     CONSTITUTION THE 

FIESTAS  AT  MALAGA,  AS  VIEWED  BY  A  PROTESTANT,       .212 

CHAPTER   XL 

THE  EXPERIMENT  AND  EXPERIENCE  OF  A  VOYAGE  TO 
SOUTH  AMERICA,  WITH  NOTES  UPON  MONTEVIDEO  AND 
BUENOS  AYRES,  .  226 


CONTENTS.  HI 

PAGE 

CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  CAUSE,  HISTORY  AND  CURE  OF  DESPONDENCY SUB 
SEQUENT  RETURN  TO  AMERICA  AND  ENTRANCE  UPON 
THE  STUDY  OF  MEDICINE,  .....  253 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

TRIALS  IN  OBTAINING  HIS    PROFESSION HOPES    CROWNED 

WITH    A     MEDICAL     DEGREE VOYAGE     TO     CUBA,  WITH 

NOTES  OF  LIFE  AT  HAVANA,  .....    278 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

ARRIVAL   AND  SETTLEMENT  AT  TRINIDAD EXAMINED  ANE 

APPROVED  BY     THE     ROYAL    UNIVERSITY INVESTITURE 

WITH  THE  RIGHT  OF    PRACTICE,  ....    303 


CHAPTER    XV. 


PROSPECTS  AS  A  PHYSICIAN HOPES  RAISED,  FRUSTRATED, 

AND     AT      LENGTH     TERMINATED      BY      DEATH,     ON     HIS 
RETURN     VOYAGE  TO  AMERICA,  .  .  *  .331 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

REVIEW     AND     CONCLUSION,  .    350 


PREFACE. 


THIS  book  would  not  have  been  added  to  the  multi 
tude  of  similar  memorials  of  friends  and  relatives, 
Lad  it  not  been  for  the  judgment,  repeatedly  ex 
pressed,  of  persons  well  acquainted  with  the  subject 
of  these  sketches,  that  some  notice  of  his  life  and 
character  in  a  volume,  would  certainly  do  good.  As 
an  account  of  the  trials  and  conflicts  of  a  youthful 
Christian,  nearly  the  whole  of  whose  life  was  a  pro 
tracted  struggle  after  health,  and  nearly  all  his  attain 
ments  the  result  of  repeated  disappointments,  there  is 
something  in  it  of  novelty  and  originality — something, 
at  least,  out  of  the  ordinary  channel  of  biographies. 
Of  the  current  and  changes  of  the  mortal  existence 
here  recorded,  there  are  no  visible  results,  nor  any 
consciousness  in  men's  minds  connected  with  the 
name ;  and,  in  general,  a  book  of  memorials  is  of 


VI  PREFACE. 

those  whose  successful  or  remarkable  doings,  or  whose 
important  position,  at  least,  in  a  larger  or  a  smaller 
circle,  have  given  them  some  measure  of  reputation 
and  of  influence. 

But  in  this  book  there  is  nothing  either  of  fame  or 
position  connected  with  its  subject,  to  give  it  popu 
larity  ;  and  its  interest  must  be  owing  to  the  pleasure 
men  may  take  in  pursuing  the  development  of  a  re 
pressed  and  noble  nature,  through  a  life  of  suffering. 
There  are  important  Christian  lessons  contained  in  it, 
and  growing  out  of  it ;  and  we  would  fain  hope  that 
this  simple  record  of  illness  and  of  disappointed  ex 
pectation,  conducting  only  to  the  grave,  yet  there, 
and  all  the  way  along,  pointing  to  heaven,  may  meet 
a  want,  if  not  a  wish,  in  some  minds,  especially 
youthful  minds,  and  be  instrumental  in  quickening 
some  hearts,  perhaps  distressed  and  desponding 
hearts,  in  the  grand  but  often  trying  pilgrimage  to 
the  Saints'  Kest. 

YOEK,  Sept.  1st,  1851. 


INTRODUCTI  OJST 


ALMOST  the  earliest  recollection  of  my  beloved  brother  pre 
sents  him  as  a  beautiful  child,  with  one  hand  in  mine,  and  we 
together  on  the  way  to  school,  ft  was  with  a  mixture  of 
fraternal  pride  and  love  that  I  watched  over  him,  and  both 
of  us  seemed  for  a  time  to  be  moving  in  the  bright  world 
around  us  as  in  a  dream.  This  play-mate  care  of  childhood  grew 
into  a  painful  anxiety  when  ill  health  had  become  the  element  of 
his  existence ;  but  still,  the  fervency  and  strength  of  our  affection 
were  increased  by  it.  I  remember  for  the  first  time  having  the 
sole  care  of  him  away  from  home,  when  we  were  both  very 
young,  during  a  sojourn  of  some  weeks  for  his  health  at  an 
unvisited  mineral  spring  in  the  wilderness,  then  lying  in  the  same 
primeval  state  as  when  it  was  resorted  to  only  by  bears  and 
savages.  The  images  of  that  isolation  from  society  were  ab 
sorbed,  on  the  part  of  both  of  us,  in  one  feeling— that  of  intense 
and  overwhelming  home-sickness.  There  was  only  one  habitation 
in  a  field  of  stumps  and  cornstalks,  amidst  the  desolation  of  a 
half-burned  clearing  in  the  heart  of  the  forest,  and  the  time  was 
heavy  and  long  with  us;  but  his  patience,  cheerfulness,  and 
power  of  enjoyment  amidst  suffering,  began  even  then  to  be 
remarkable. 


Vlll  INTKODUCTION. 

An  interval  of  youthful  health  was  granted  after  this,  before 
that  dreadful  cold  was  taken  which  issued  in  the  fixed,  uncon 
querable  disease,  that,  years  afterwards,  terminated  his  existence  ; 
and  during  that  period  his  life  was  bright,  hopeful,  and  happy,  and 
the  development  of  his  being,  both  physical  and  mental,  as  per 
fect  as  ever  perhaps  takes  place  under  like  circumstances.  His 
face  was  radiant  vyith  loveliness,  both  of  feature  and  expression — 
a  sparkling  animation  mingled  with  its  sweetness,  the  result  of 
that  elasticity  and  joyousness  of  spirit,  which  afterwards  won 
derfully  sustained  his  activity  beneath  such  a  weight  of  op 
pressive  chronic  malady.  Its  characteristic  bright  cheerfulness, 
was,  indeed,  at  length  shaded  with  pain  :  habitual  sickness  and 
suffering  will  make  their  marks  upon  the  countenance,  not  merely 
in  wasting  and  paleness;  and  even  the  prevailing  expression  of 
resignation  is  a  sad  and  touching  one.  Yet  always  there  remained 
on  the  face  and  on  the  soul  the  frankness  and  disinterestedness 
of  character,  the  pleasant,  glad-hearted  sympathy,  the  earnestness 
and  simplicity  of  purpose,  the  warmth  of  affectionate  feeling. 

A  single  look — how  long  it  will  continue  in  the  mind  !  If  we 
doubted  whether  all  things  will  come  up  in  review,  our  own  ex 
periences  would  confound  us.  I  remember,  when  we  were  both 
very  young,  I  was  in  our  yard  at  home,  during  one  of  my  vaca 
tions,  mending  an  old  hen-house,  for  the  amusement  of  my  dear 
invalid  young  brother.  He  stood  by,  watching  with  his  animated 
countenance  my  progress  with  the  hammer  and  the  nails.  I  got 
into  some  little  difficulty,  or  it  took  me  much  longer  to  do  the 
work  than  I  had  thought  for,  or  else  I  may  have  got  an  ugly 
scratch,  that  put  me  for  the  moment  out  of  temper;  but  I  remem 
ber  exclaiming  to  my  dear  little  brother,  who  loved  me,  and  looked 
up  to  me  with  great  veneration,  and  for  whom  I  would  have  done 
anything  in  the  world  to  please  him — I  remember  exclaiming, 
though  with  an  under-consciousness  myself,  at  the  very  same 
moment,  of  a  foolish  affectation  or  hypocrisy  in  what  I  was  say- 


»  INTRODUCTION.  IX 

ing,  and  of  the  vvrongfulness  of  rny  impatience,  u  Well,  I'm  thank 
ful  there'll  be  no  mending  of  hen-houses  in  heaven  ;  we  shall 
have  a  very  different  employment  there/'  The  dear  boy's  coun 
tenance  fell  in  a  moment.  It  mortified  and  perplexed  him.  I 
remember  the  look  he  gave  to  this  hour.  He  did  not  say  a  single 
word,  but  it  was  evident  that  his  feelings  were  hurt.  He  felt 
grieved  that  1  should  be  impatient  in  a  slight  task,  which  he  had 
thought  was  a  pleasure  to  me — a  labor  of  love  ;  he  felt  hurt  and 
sorry  to  have  been  himself  the  occasion  of  trouble;  and  there 
was  in  his  face  an  expression  that  told  me,  as  plainly  as  words 
could  have  said  it,  that  he  saw  anything  but  the  spirit  of  heaven — 
anything  but  a  true  desire  after  heaven  in  my  manner,  and  in  what 
I  was  uttering. 

I  recollect,  too,  that  the  moment  I  had  dropped  that  speech,  and 
even  while  I  was  speaking  it.  I  felt  its  silliness  and  its  wrongful- 
ness — felt  that  it  was  not  sincere,  but  inconsistent  with  anything 
like  the  true  gentleness  and  patience  of  piety,  and  that  it  conveyed 
an  accusation,  as  if  there  was  something  beneath  the  d'gnity  of 
religion  in  being  at  work  upon  that  old  hen-house  !  There  the 
revelation  stops.  I  remember  nothing  more  of  that  day,  nor  of 
that  year — nay,  I  cannot  tell  what  year  of  his  life  or  of  mine  it 
was,  nor  precisely  how  old  either  of  us  were,  nor  any  other  cir 
cumstances  or  associations.  But  that  look  of  hi?, — I  see  his  dear 
face  now, — that  look  has  held  its  place  in  my  soul  ever  since — 
its  REPROVING  place ;  and  it  has  kept  that  one  scene  as  fresh  in 
my  memory  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday  ;  and  every  time  I  think  of 
it,  it  still  brings  the  pang  of  regret  that  shot  through  me  at  first, 
that  I  should  have  clouded  his  young  heart  for  a  moment,  even  in 
the  very  midst  of  the  pleasure  I  was  giving  him;  that  I  should 
have  deprived  him,  as  it  were,  of  that  very  pleasure,  by  making 
him  feel  ashamed  and  downcast,  by  such  a  foolish,  Pharisaical 
speech,  which  seemed  to  intimate  that  there  was  something  in  the 
care  of  his  hen-house  quite  beneath  the  grandeur  of  immortality 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

and  the  thought  of  heaven.  T  say  to  myself,  with  perfect  disgust 
at  the  spirit  of  .that  speech,  You  miserable  hypocrite  ! 

It  is  very  rare  to  meet  with  a  character  of  such  superior  love 
liness,  hoth  by  nature  and  grace.  Men  seldom  have  opportunity 
to  observe  the  combination  of  such  vivacity  and  vividness  of  mind 
and  feeling,  with  such  perfect  unchangeable  sweetness  of  dispo 
sition.  Frank  and  open-hearted  as  the  day,  there  was  neither 
concealment  of  himself,  nor  suspicion  in  regard  to  others.  His 
feelings,  thoughts,  and  manners  were  always  those  of  kindness 
towards  others — never  of  vigilance  against  them,  nor  of  unsocial 
reserve.  Indeed,  the  extreme  sociableness  of  his  nature  might 
have  seemed,  sometimes,  the  marking,  reigning  feature  in  his 
character.  He  yearned  for  social  communication  and  sympathy, 
and  pined  when  deprived  of  it,  as  a  flower  shut  out  from  the  light. 
If  there  was  any  good  point  in  a  bad  man's  character,  he  would 
find  that  out,  and  enter  into  sympathy  by  means  of  it.  Hence,  he 
never  made  enemies— it  would  seem  impossible-  and  not  only  so, 
but  he  attracted  all  men,  without  any  effort,  into  a  magnetic  kindly 
correspondence  of  pity  or  of  interest. 

He  was  never  anxious  about  his  own  rights  or  conveniences, 
nor  ever  fearful  in  regard  to  the  opinion  of  others.  Hence  there 
was  a  native,  unassumed  freedom  and  independence,  along  with 
undissembled  affability  and  kindness,  rarely  manifested  in  so 
happy  a  degree.  The  habit  of  being  cared  for,  and  ministered  to, 
uninterruptedly,  as  an  invalid,  by  loving  relatives  and  sympathiz 
ing  friends,  sometimes  turns  into  an  unconscious  selfishness,  if 
not  querulousness  of  character,  even  where  there  was  no  such 
disposition  originally.  There  was  never  the  slightest  shade  of 
such  an  effect  upon  him.  His  character,  in  its  frankness,  gene 
rosity,  and  disinterestedness,  continued  to  the  end,  like  the  purity, 
elasticity,  and  freshness  of  an  October  morning  atmosphere. 

As  to  intellectual  qualities,  his  mind  was  finely  balanced,  with 
much  intuitive  quickness  of  perception,  and  a  good  judgment 


INTJBOD  UCTIOK .  XI 

and  power  of  application  and  analysis.  He  had  a  fine  taste 
in  literature,  and  a  good  capacity  for  the  acquisition  of  lan 
guages.  The  severe  and  long-continued  pressure  of  disease  pre 
vented  any  uninterrupted  or  intense  application  to  study ;  never 
theless,  his  mind  was  not  undisciplined,  and  was  always  full  of 
activity.  The  observing  faculty  had  in  him  a  great  native 
strength  and  quickness,  so  that  details  never  escaped  him,  at  the 
same  time  that  there  was  a  habit  of  precision  and  accuracy,  and 
an  interest  in  statistics,  perhaps  unusual,  though  sometimes  it  is 
seen  apparently  unconnected  with  any  generalizing  principle  or 
end.  He  had  a  fine  imagination,  and  a  quick  sensibility  to  the 
beauties  of  natural  scenery,  though  quicker  still  to  the  varieties 
of  human  life  and  manners.  Classic  and  romantic  story  and  asso 
ciation  took  a  powerful  hold  upon  him,  as  was  manifested  in  a 
very  interesting  manner  in  the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  pursued 
and  enjoyed  his  visit  to  the  palaces  of  the  Alhambra. 

He  had  a  strong  and  passionate  relish  for  genuine  wit  and 
humoiy  both  in  conversation  and  in  literature.  Hence  it  was  that 
he  read  Don  Quixote  in  the  original  with  such  eager  delight, 
marking  every  development  and  delineation  of  character  with  the 
most  exquisite  appreciation.  I  never  met  with  an  instance  of 
such  deep,  unaffected  enjoyment  in  the  writings  of  Cervantes. 
Perhaps  it  was  peculiarly  intense,  because  first  learned  and  culti 
vated  in  the  beautiful  language  and  romantic  country  of  Spain, 
where  the  old  literature  still  mirrors  the  modern  manners,  and  the 
usages  of  life  still  prove  the  truth  of  the  socially  descriptive 
literature.  One  may  possibly  never  meet  in  Spain,  nor  indeed 
anywhere  else,  with  anything  like  the  characters  either  of  Sancho 
Panza  or  Don  Quixote,  and  yet  how  natural,  and  how  irresistibly 
ludicrous  and  attractive!  The  power  of  the  delineation  cannot 
be  fully  understood  and  relished  anywhere  but  in  Spain  ;  but  no 
classic  in  the  world,  not  even  Shakspeare,  may  be  more  intensely 
appreciated  and  loved  than  Cervantes  in  his  native  land  and 


dialect.  For  a  considerable  time,  Don  Quixote  seemed  to  consti 
tute  the  whole  library  of  our  brother;  and  he  delighted  in  observ 
ing  the  proverbs  of  the  country  for  illustration,  and  was  never 
more  happy  than  when  he  could  hear  or  find  one  that  had  dropped 
from  the  lips  of  Sancho  Panza. 

He  appreciated,  with  the  same  keen  zest,  every  humorous  occur 
rence  and  development  in  real  life.  A  character,  with  whatever 
spice  of  humor,  was  instantly  attractive  to  him,  and  he  enjoyed  a 
laugh,  even  in  the  very  paroxysms  of  his  sufferings,  more  than 
most  people  do  in  health.  Yet  there  was  great  chasteness  and 
delicacy  in  this  passion  for  humor,  and  a  coarse  or  indecorous  jest 
he  could  not  endure.  And  he  could  reprove  and  rebuke,  on  occa 
sions  of  profaneness,  or  other  immoralities,  with  a  mingled  firm 
ness  and  pleasantness,  young  as  he  was,  which  was  as  impressive 
as  it  was  unusual. 

I  was  with  him  as  his  sole  companion  in  many  changes  and 
dangers,  and  for  years  he  was  thrown,  at  sea  and  abroad,  upon  the 
care  of  us,  his  elder  brothers,  under  such  circumstances  as  made 
our  attachment  to  him  much  stronger  than  the  ordinary  fraternal 
bond.  We  had  watched  over  him  in  perils  at  home  and  in  foreign 
countries,  by  sea  and  by  land,  through  various  trials  and  adven 
tures;  nor  would  he  have  been  left  at  any  time  to  journey  alone, 
had  a  different  arrangement  been  possible.  For  a  season  we 
were-  all  abroad,  but  in  different  quarters  of  the  globe — all 
beneath  the  discipline  of  Divine  Providence,  in  search  of  health, 
our  dear  Mother  and  Sister  the  only  ones  left  at  home  in 
the  family  circle;  and  it  way  well  be  supposed  that  the  bitterest 
part  of  the  sorrow  of  having  him  die  away  from  home,  after  so 
many  and  such  long  wanderings  with  him,  was,  that  none  of  us 
could  be  permitted  to  be  by  his  side — to  walk  with  him  Oown  to 
the  borders  of  the  River  of  Death — to  mingle  our  prayers  with 
his — to  save  him,  if  possible,  from  the  bitterness  of  that  inde 
scribable  depression  of  eoul,  which,  at  one  time,  he  experienced 


INTRODUCTION.  Xlll 

»• 

in  such  utter  loneliness,  and  to  receive  the  utterance  of  his  last 
aspirations  of  faith  and  Jove  at  the  departure  of  his  spirit.  This 
is  a  trial,  the  severity  of  which  can  hardly  be  conceived  by  those 
who  have  never  passed  through  it.  But  as  the  death  of  his 
saints  is  precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  so  are  all  its  circum 
stances;  and  they  are  all  ordered  and  arranged  by  Him  in  inex 
pressible  love.  It  were  treason  to  the  whole  plan  of  redemption, 
and  to  the  special  Providence  of  God,  to  think  otherwise. 

Therefore  his  children,  in  this  happy  confidence,  should  be  at 
peace;  quiet  and  serene  in  their  submission,  even  though  pierced 
to  the  heart.  For  whether  they  die  at  home  or  abroad — in  the 
midst  of  strangers  or  among  friends  and  kindred — at  an  inn,  like 
Leighton  (even  as  he  had  wished  to  die),  or  in  the  house  of 
nativity  and  childhood — on  the  sea  or  on  the  land,  lingeringly  and 
with  much  warning,  or  suddenly  at  a  moment's  call — all  these 
varieties  of  the  form  are  arranged  for  the  highest  blessedness  and 
glory  of  the  Redeemer's  triumph  over  the  last  enemy  to  be 
destroyed,  DEATH.  All  these  changes  in  the  manner  of  the  last 
change,  are  at  His  blessed  will,  who  himself  goes  wTith  his  chil 
dren  through  the  gloom,  till  it  opens  before  the  throne  of  God  in 
light  eternal. 

There  are  sometimes  seasons  in  life  more  dangerous  and  dis 
tressing  by  far  than  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death — than  the 
presence  of  the  King  of  Terrors.  Such  seasons  our  beloved  bro 
ther  had  to  pass  through  alone.  Yet,  not  alone;  for  still,  as  ever, 
the  Lord,  his  Redeemer,  was  with  him  ;  and  for  him,  as  for  Peter 
(and,  we  believe,  for  all  tempted  and  fainting  souls,  whose  trust  is 
in  Christ),  that  gracious  Redeemer  had  prayed  that  his  faith 
should  fail  not.  So,  and  for  that  reason  only,  in  every  such 
painful  conflict  he  was  victorious.  One  of  the  dreariest  experi 
ences  of  his  life — that  in  Brazil,  and  on  the  voyage  from  South 
America  to  Spain — arose  mainly  from  the  fact  of  his  utter  lone 
liness  in  conjunction  with  the  pressure  of  his  disease.  The  Tempter 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

of  the  soul  (where,  in  this  fallen  world,  is  he  not?)  took  advan 
tage  of  the  hour,  and  it  was  the  power  of  darkness.  It  yields  a 
lesson  well  marked  in  this  biography,  as  to  the  importance  of  the 
presence  of  a  friend,  and  the  hazard  to  health,  happiness,  and 
even  piety,  of  permitting  an  invalid  to  launch  upon  a  voyage 
alone. 

I  have  touched  upon  some  of  the  features  of  a  very  lovely 
character.  The  Christian  change  was  not  so  much  superinduced 
upon  such  a  character,  as  mingled  with  it,  and  pervading  it,  at  a 
very  early  period,  as  its  renewing  and  transfiguring  element.  He 
•was  baptized  in  infancy,  and  a  prayer-hearing  and  covenant-keep 
ing  God  did  not  withhold  that  grace,  which  alone  could  keep  the 
baptismal  consecration  from  inflicting  the  guilt  of  a  violated  re 
sponsibility,  instead  of  communicating  the  favor  of  a  Divine 
blessing.  The  earliest  dispensation  of  disease,  seemed  to  be  foi 
him  the  hand  of  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant,  leading  him  to  God. 
And  it  might  have  seemed  as  if  God,  in  making  such  an  one  a 
Christian,  would  have  had  something  of  extensive  usefulness  in 
view  for  him  here — some  sphere  of  energy  and  influence  for  him 
to  fill,  that  asked  for  just  such  qualities  and  developments  of 
mind  and  heart.  It  might  have  been  supposed  that  those  faculties 
were  not  to  be  employed  merely  or  mainlj7  in  wrestling  for  physi 
cal  health,  as  for  the  fit  mould  in  which  to  cast  and  use  them,  or 
in  the  conflict  with  disease. 

But  so  it  is.  The  whole  energy  and  power  of  some  high 
natures  are  employed  all  their  life  long  in  merely  coat 
ing  the  grains  of  sand  within  the  pearl ;  and  little  or  no  use, 
after  all,  seems  to  be  made  of  it.  So  that  the  oft-repeated  asser 
tion  of  Shakspeare,  that  spirits  are  never  finely  touched  but 
to  fine  issues,  has  no  absolute  truth,  unless  taken  in  a  higher 
sense  than  that  in  which  the  poet  can  be  supposed  to  have  written 
it.  Pointed  to  the  skies,  it  is  absolutely  and  always  true  j  and 
there  only  God  has  a  setting  for  all  his  jewels,  and  one  that  is 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

worthy  of  them  all.  The  great  thing  in  this  life,  and  the  great 
point  of  God's  discipline,  is  to  render  them  worthy  of  it.  And 
how  mighty,  how  transcendent,  how  inconceivable  the  honor  of  a 
place  in  the  Redemecr's  crown — the  glory  of  being  appointed  and 
prepared  to  reflect  His  glory !  Whatever  be  the  exact  meaning 
yet  to  be  revealed,  of  the  imagery  employed  in  Scripture  on  this 
subject,  it  can  be  regarded  in  no  possible  sense  but  as  covering  up 
a  glory,  and,  therefore,  an  extent  of  usefulness  cheaply  purchased 
by  all  the  influences,  gifts,  qualities,  richnesses  of  endowment, 
costliness  of  discipline,  and  opportunity  and  compulsion  of  in 
tense  effort,  that  could  ever  be  lavished  upon  a  soul  in  the  largest 
period  of  a  mortal  existence. 

In  order  that  the  notices  in  these  remarks,  and  those  scat 
tered  in  these  memoirs,  may  be  seen  to  spring  not  from  the  par 
tiality  of  fraternal  affection  merely,  but  to  be  coincident  with  the 
spontaneous  judgment  of  impartial  friends,  I  shall  here  insert  one 
or  two  affecting  and  delightful  records  of  feeling  and  of  remem 
brance  drawn  forth  by  the  news  of  his  death.  They  were  ad 
dressed  mostly  to  his  only  Sister  by  those  who  knew  him  well 
from  boyhood.  The  first  is  from  a  distant,  but  dear  friend,  a  rela 
tive  of  the  beloved  pastor  of  our  brother  : 

"The  first  notice  in  the  '  New  York  Observer'  of  your  dear 
brother's  death,  gave  me  a  terrible  shock.  I  had  felt  such  an  assur 
ance  that  in  the  delicious  climate  of  Cuba  he  would  get  his  health 
established,  particularly  after  reading  some  of  his  letters  to  you 
when  at  Hallowell  in  September.  I  sat  down  and  wept  as  if  he  had 
been  my  own  brother,  when  I  saw  the  account  of  his  death,  and 
was  almost  unwilling  to  credit  it.  1  felt  it  keenly  ;  and  when  I 
thought  of  the  stricken  mother  and  sister — how  sudden  and  over 
whelming  would  be  the  tidings — my  heart  was  filled  with  sorrow. 
All  I  could  do  was  to  ask  the  Lord  to  comfort  your  hearts,  and 
richly  impart  to  you  his  sustaining,  sanctifying  grace.  My 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

pleasantest  associations — some  of  my  happiest  hours,  have  been 
connected  with  dear  Nathaniel  and  yourself  at  your  mother's  fireside, 
when,  in  the  ardor  of  our  '  first  love,'  we  delighted  in  communing 
together  on  things  concerning  the  kingdom  ;  and  like  the  disciples 
on  their  way  to  Emmaus,  we  would  feel  that  the  Saviour  was 
with  us  of  a  truth.  How  vividly  is  Nathaniel's  beautiful  counte 
nance  pictured  on  my  mind,  as  he  used  to  sit  in  those  days — a 
meek  sufferer — in  a  favorite  corner  of  the  fire-place,  and  talk  of 
Christ,  and  lay  out  his  various  plans  for  doing  good !  This  ardent 
love  for  his  Saviour,  and  for  souls,  he  ever  manifested.  He 
seemed  so  heavenly.  I  remember  how  I  loved  to  look  upon  him, 
and  how  my  affections  were  drawn  out  towards  him  because  he 
was  so  devoted.  How  varied  and  numerous  have  been  his  trials 
for  so  short  a  pilgrimage.  In  perils  by  sea  and  by  land,  in  weari 
ness,  in  painfulness  and  watching,  yet  the  same  firm,  unshaken 
confidence  in  God,  as  when  in  his  brightest  days.  H£  has,  indeed, 
from  his  early  youth,  been  an  object  of  the  tenderest  and  most 
anxious  solicitude  to  your  dear  mother  and  yourself.  Not  his 
sufferings  alone  (though  they  have  been  very  great),  but  the  uni 
form  cheerfulness,  patience,  and  sweet  resignation  with  which  he 
ever  bore  them,  have  drawn  your  affections  more  closely  around 
him  than  could  have  been  possible,  perhaps,  in  other  circum 
stances.'' 

Here  are  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  another  dear  friend  in  his 
native  place  : 

"  Oh,  I  always  did  love  him  from  his  early  childhood,  but 
more  particularly  the  last  part  of  his  interesting  life.  Full 
well  do  I  remember  his  friendly  calls  at  our  house  when  I  was 
your  near  neighbor  ;  and  frequently,  after  an  ill  turn  from  his 
fatal  complaint,  would  he  come  in,  and  with  his  cheerful  and 
animated  manner,  call  forth  my  sympathies  in  behalf  of  others. 


INTRODUCTION.  XV11 

He  felt  deeply  for  the  souls  of  those  out  of  the  ark  of  safety,  and 
for  the  disobedience  of  those  particularly  who  did  not  remember 
the  Sabbath  to  keep  it  holy.  We  saw  much  of  the  profanation 
of  this  gacred  day  when  living  near  the  water;  and  when  he  was 
quite  a  child,  he  would  talk  to  the  men,  and  give  them  tracts,  and 
try  to  do  them  good.  This  I  have  not  only  heard  from  others, 
but  have  seen  it  myself  ;  and  ever  since  his  new  birth,  his  Christian 
course  has  been  onward,  onward,  and  whatever  his  hands  found  to 
do,  it  was  done  with  his  might,  so  marked  was  he  for  perseverance 
and  industry  both  spiritual  and  temporal.  Few,  I  think,  of 
his  years,  had  attained  to  that  fullness  in  Christ,  as  did  this  beloved 
son  j  but  the  Saviour  was  rapidly  preparing  him  to  fill  the  place 
he  had  prepared  for  him;  and  now  he  sees  him  as  he  is,  face 'to 
face,  without  a  glass  between.  There  he  is  triumphing  in  redeem 
ing  love,  singing  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb.  Happy 

spirit,  who  would  recall  thee  ?" 

"*f 

And  yet  another  beloved  friend  wrote  on  the  same  occasion  as 
follows  : 

"  The  memory  of  your  sainted  brother  is  very  precious  to  me, 
connected,  as  it  is,  with  the  early  part  of  my  own  religious  life.  ' 
Thoughts  of  him,  and  his  deep  religious  exercises,  so  remarkable 
in  one  so  young,  are  closely  linked  with  that  interesting  period 
of  personal  history — a  public  profession  of  faith  in  Christ.  Your 
brother  was  one  of  the  little  band  that  at  that  time  avouched  the 
Lord  Jehovah  to  be  their  God,  and  most  nobly  did  he  redeem  his 
pledge.  You  will  remember  what  frequent  interviews  I  had  with 
him  at  that  period,  and  how  much  I  enjoyed  his  sweet  society. 
As  I  write,  his  image  rises  vividly  before  me.  I  seem  to  see  him 
seated  in  his  arm  chair  by  the  fire,  in  the  most  sheltered  part  of 
the  room,  which  I  learned  to  consider  his  corner,  his  pale,  sweet 
face  illuminated  by  the  light  within  to  such  a  degree  I  almost  for- 


XV111  INTRODUCTION. 

got  he  was  a  sufferer.  Indeed,  such  was  his  cheerful  submission 
and  patient  endurance,  that  in  my  robust  health,  and  unconscious 
ness  of  pain,  I  fear  I  failed  to  render  him  that  sympathy  he  was 
so  largely  entitled  to.  After-years  of  painful  suffering  have 
much  reminded  me  of  him ;  and  I  have  earnestly  desire  1  to 
exhibit  a  like  patience  and  Christian  fortitude,  that  friends,  while 
with  me,  might  not  be  made  to  feel  I  am  sick;  which  was  wonder 
fully  true  of  him ! 

"  I  well  remember  the  deep  interest  he  ever  felt  in  the  cause  of 
Christ,  and  the  lively  sense  of  Divine  things  he  ever  manifested. 
One  circumstance  which  made  a  deep  impression  on  my  mind.  I 
must  mention.  I  do  not  remember  the  precise  time,  but  I  think  it 
was  on  the  occasion  of  our  annual  Church-fast  the  first  of  Jan 
uary.  There  was  a  short  intermission  at  noon,  but  a  number  of 
sisters  living  at  some  distance  from  the  place  of  worship,  remained 
after  all  the  brethren  but  Nathaniel  had  retired.  Unexpectedly  to 
us  all  (for  his  feeble  health,  together  with  his  extreme  youth, 
generally  prevented  his  taking  part  in  the  meeting),  Nathaniel 
rose  and  proposed  that  the  time  should  not  be  unimproved.  He 
led  in  prayer  in  a  most  fervent  and  elevating  manner — then  offered 
many  experimental  and  appropriate  observations,  continuing  the 
exercises  till  the  return  of  our  pastor  and  other  brethren.  It  was 
a  sweet  season;  and  we  all  felt  it  was  good  to  be  there.  I  might 
mention  many  interesting  things,  but  you  were  much  more  inti 
mately  acquainted  with  him  at  that  period,  and  it  is  needless  for 
me  to  recall  what  must  be  so  deeply  engraven  upon  your  own 
mind.  He  will  ever  live  in  the  hearts  of  his  friends,  and,  ere 
long,  we  will  join  him  in  his  present  blessed  abode,  and  unite 
with  him  in  that  glorious  ascription  of  praise,  '  Unto  him  who 
hath  loved  us,  and  washed  us  in  his  own  blood,  be  praise  and 
glory  for  ever  and  ever.'  " 

One  more  notice,  in  the  foiiovring  valued  letter,  to  the  bereaved 


INTRODUCTION.  XIX 

Mother  and  Sister,  from  their  former  pastor,  Rev.  Professor 
Shepard,  of  Bangor  Theological  Seminary,  must  not  be  omitted. 
It  was  written  from  Bangor  on  receiving  the  unexpected  intelli 
gence  of  our  brother's  death  : 

"  I  hardly  know  what  to  say  to  you  in  your  sudden  and  deep 
affliction.  There  are  circumstances  before  which  language  and 
argument  seem  to  be  confounded.  I  have  often  been  struck  with 
the  simplicity  and  nature  of  that  passage  of  Scripture,  '  So  they 
sat  down  with  him  upon  the  ground  seven  days  and  seven  nights, 
and  none  spake  a  word  unto  him  ;  for  they  saw  that  his  grief  was 
great.'  A  voice  says  to  us,  'Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God.' 
I  know  what  the  greatness  of  your  affliction  must  be,  for  I  know 
how  you  loved  that  son  and  brother — how  much  there  was  in 
him  to  be  loved — how  much  worth  and  affection  to  lose,  for  few 
had  such  a  heart  as  he.  The  fact  that  he  has  been  so  long  an  in 
valid  and  sufferer,  requiring  such  intimate  and  tender  attentions 
and  sympathy,  has  only  bound  him  so  much  the  closer.  It  is 
hard  to  realize  that  we  shall  not  see  him  again.  To  me  the  intel 
ligence  of  his  death  is  as  sudden  and  unexpected  as  if  he  had  died 
from  the  most  perfect  health,  not  having  heard  of  any  increase  of 
his  malady,  supposing,  even,  that  the  genial  clime  might  be  effect 
ing  a  cure ;  if  not  this,  that  he  could  abide  on  the  island,  and  be 
comfortable  and  useful  in  his  profession.  Furthermore,  he  had 
contended  so  long  with  the  disease  successfully,  it  seemed  that  he 
would  continue  to  do  so,  and  though  he  might  suffer,  yet  he  would 
live— that  by  these  sufferings  he  had  won  a  sort  of  title  to  life ; 
yet,  in  a  moment  we  hear  it  is  otherwise.  God's  thoughts  are  not 
as  ours.  He  is  taken  away,  and  we  shall  see  him  no  more. 

'  But  the  circumstances,'  I  hear  you  say  (indeed,  I  see  not  how 
you  can  help  saying  in  some  of  your  thoughts  upon  the  case), 
1  that  he  should  die  with  strangers,  and  find  his  grave  in  the  sea. 
How  kind  would  have  been  the  Providence,  and  how  it  would 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 

have  taken  off  from  the  keenness  of  the  pang,  if  he  could  have 
reached  home,  and  we  could  -have  seen  his  face  once  more,  and 
could  have  administered  to  him  in  those  last  offices,  and  prayed 
with  him,  and  heard  his  expressions  of  sweet  trust  in  the  Saviour, 
and  heheld  that  eye  as  it  looked  upon  heaven,  and  have  followed 
him  to  the  grave,  and  known  the  place  where  the  beloved  form 
sleepeth.'  I  said,  how  kind  the  Providence  ;  and  yet,  that  Provi 
dence  is  really  just  as  kind  in  the  circumstances  as  they  actually 
are,  as  it  would  have  been  in  the  circumstances  supposed.  And 
here  is  the  consolation  :  It  is  no  where  else  but  in  God.  He  is 
love.  He  does  not  afflict  his  children  willingly,  but  in  love.  All 
the  circumstances  are  ordered  in  love  j  the  manner  and  the 
measure  come  from  that  Father :  if  darkness  is  about  him,  he  will 
yet  make  it  plain.  How  much  light  and  comfort  there  is  in  look 
ing  up  to  that  throne  !  How  much  peace  in  staying  the  heart 
upon  that  heavenly  Friend. 

«'  What  has  God  done  ?  He  early  laid  the  hand  of  disease  upon 
the  dear  departed  one,  and  often  was  it  heavy  and  hard  to  bear. 
But  soon  he  sent  his  Spirit  and  adopted  him  as  his  son,  and  gave 
to  him,  and  to  all,  a  peculiarly  clear  evidence  that  it  was  so,  and 
gave  him  great  joy  often  in  the  assurance  of  that  hope.  He  was 
with  him  in  his  solitude  :  a  Friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a 
brother  where  all  other  friends  were  absent.  By  the  discipline 
and  the  rich  grace  he  administered,  He  ripened  him  fast  for 
heaven,  and  then  He  took  him  to  himself ;  at  the  right  time,  in  the 
best  way — without  any  mistake  at  all — He  took  him  home  to  glory. 
In  a  moment  He  relieved  him — cured  him — made  him  whole;  a  little 
too  soon,  as  it  seems  to  us,  but  the  time  that  seemed  best  to  Him. 
He  is  now  in  heaven,  and  heaven  is  a  wonderful  place.  We  do 
not  know  it,  he  does  !  That  heart,  oh  ho\v  it  loves  now  !  That 
voice,  how  sweet  its  music !  That  spirit,  how  radiant  its  glory  ! 
No  sin,  no  suffering,  no  death  there.  This  is  what  God  has  done 
— the  process — the  completion.  How  much  mercy  in  the  cup  ! 


INTRODUCTION. 

How  much  to  praise  him  for  even  !  Contrast  it  with  this  case.  I 
was  in  the  family  a  short  time  since,  and  saw  the  parents.  It  was 
their  eldest  son.  He  was  brought  up  in  an  atmosphere  of  re 
ligion  and  prayer,  but  he  did  not  become  pious ;  he  fell  in  college 
by  vicious  indulgence  j  he  went  to  sea  before  the  mast,  and  the 
second  night  out  he  slipped  from  the  mast  and  perished.  There 
was  no  hope  in  his  case.  What  a  cup  was  that,  and  is  it  still  ^ 
'The  sting  of  death  is  sin.'  '  My  only  hope  and  consolation  is  in 
the  absolute  sovereignty  of  God,'  said  the  father.  Could  those 
parents  only  have  hope  that  their  son  was  prepared,  and  went  to 
heaven,  they  would  feel  that  the  great  burden  of  their  grief  was 
removed. 

I  feel  that  I  have  lost  a  warm  and  true  friend.  I  have  long 
loved  him  as  a  brother.  '  Very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  unto  me.' 
I  give  you  both  my  full  sympathy.  My  prayer  is,  that  God  will 
be-  your  helper,  and  impart  His  unutterable  consolations,  which 
shall  prevail  over  the  unutterable  sorrow.' 

May  the  blessing  of  God  accompany  these  Memorials.  If  they 
communicate  an  impulse  heaven- ward  to  a  single  way-worn  pil 
grim,  they  will  not  have  been  published  in  vain.  One  deep  legson 
from  every  such  tracery  of  affliction,  shines  out  clearly  :  it  is  the 
infinite  importance,  for  support  in  sickness,  of  HABITS  of  devotion 
in  the  season  of  health.  Let  the  best  energies  of  the  soul  be  em 
ployed  in  forming  them.  IN  THE  MORNING  sow  thy  seed — in  the 
bright,  cool,  joyous  morning ;  in  the  evening  thou  shalt  reap  the 
harvest.  It  is  evening — it  is  dark  night,  when  sickness  comes  ;  and 
then,  if  we  have  not  been  to  the  Great  Physician,  who,  or  what, 
shall  comfort  us  ?  How  miserable  would  have  been  the  condition 
of  the  subject  of  these  notices,  with  all  his  native  elasticity  of 
spirit,  if  he  had  not  early  trusted  in  Christ — if  he  had  not  been 
cheered  by  the  presence  of  a  gracious  God  and  Saviour  bearing 
him  onward,  and  consoling  him  through  life— if,  when  embarking 


XX11  INTRODUCTION. 

on  the  deep  for  the  last  time,  in  extreme  weakness  and  heart-sick 
ness,  he  had  not  felt  that  Christ  was  with  him,  and  that  he  had 
just  as  firm  a  hold  upon  Christ's  precious  promises  and  dying  love 
on  the  sea  as  on  the  land — if  he  had  not  been  ablu  to  feel  that  all 
was  well,  and  when  the  last  hopes  of  home  and  Mother  and  Sister 
were  taken  from  him,  that  Jesus  himself,  in  the  tenderest  love, 
was  doing  it  all — if  he  had  not  been  able  to  say,  '  Into  thy  hands 
I  commit  my  spirit.  Thou  hast  redeemed  me,  0  Lord  God  of 
truth  !'  Forever  blessed  be  the  Lord  for  this  infinite  mercy  ! 

I  am  led  to  one  more  reflection  by  a  re-perusal  of  one  of  the 
youthful  letters  of  our  beloved  brother  after  a  journey.  It  is  as 
to  the  preciousness  of  the  habit  of  trusting  in  Christ  daily  amidst 
trials,  and  of  running  to  him  for  deliverance.  Death  will  be  easy 
to  those  whose  life  has  been  a  constant  experience  and  observance 
of  the  Saviour's  loving  care.  The  HABIT  of  faith  is  unspeakably 
desirable,  and  not  the  mere  impulse,  and  it  grows  strong  by 
watchful  exercise  in  what  some  might  call  little  things.  "  I  have 
not  suffered  so  severely  in  mind,"  says  the  letter  to  which  I  refer, 
'-'  on  accout  of  your  absence,  as  I  expected  to  do.  Thus  does  the 
Lord  temper  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb,  and  fulfils  the  gracious 
promise,  As  thy  days  so  shall  thy  strength  be;  and  surely 
WE  have  reason,  if  any  ever  had  it,  to  believe  in,  and  rely  upon, 
that  precious  declaration.  My  mind  sometimes  adverts  to  the 
dangers  through  which  we  have  passed,  and  the  narrow  but  mer 
ciful  deliverances  we  have  experienced  ;  and  I  wonder  and  am 
astonished  that  I  am  yet  alive,  much  more  in  such  pleasant  circum 
stances,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  so  many  mercies  and  unspeak 
able  blessings.  Oh  that  the  Lord's  great  goodness  to  us  on  our 
journey,  and  during  our  whole  lives,  might  have  its  legitimate 
effect  upon  us,  and  make  us  live  more  entirely  as  his  servants  and 
disciples." 

Now  that  the  survey  is  taken  from  heaven,  with  all  the  dangers 
and  escapes  visible,  all  the  interpositions  of  a  Saviour's  daily 


INTRODUCTION. 

mercy,  hitherto  concealed,  with  what  wonder  and  astonishment, 
what  joy  and  Jove  past  our  mortal  comprehension,  does  the  enrap 
tured  Pilgrim  find  himself  at  home!  There  the  inhabitant  no 
more  sayeth,  "I  am  sick."  There  the  "glass  darkly"  is  known 
no  more  ;  but  face  to  face,  in  a  full  beholding  and  reflection  of  the 
Saviour's  glory,  the  Earnest  of  the  Spirit  is  changed  into  the  IN 
HERITANCE  OF  THE  SAINTS  IN  LIGHT. 


MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE   OF   NATHANIEL 
CHEEVER,  M,D, 


CHAPTER    I. 


AND   TRAITS   OF   CHARACTER. 

But  though  life's  valley  be  a  vale  of  tears, 
A  brighter  scene  beyond  that  vale  appears, 
Whose  glory,  with  a  light  that  never  fades, 
Shoots  between  scattered  rocks  and  opening  shades ; 
And  while  it  shows  the  land  the  soul  desires, 
The  language  of  the  land  she  seeks  inspires. 

COWPER. 

IN  arranging  the  papers,  and  preparing  a  memorial 
of  our  cherished  brother,  we  are  actuated  by  a  double 
motive.  First — "We  wish  to  bring  up  distinctly  to  our 
own  recollection,  and  to  that  of  an  honored  circle  of 
warm,  personal  friends,  the  virtues  and  graces  of 
character,  by  reason  of  which  we  and  they  loved  the 
departed  so  deeply.  Second — We  have  thought  that 


10  MEMOEIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

such  a  character  and  life  as  his,  short  as  was  its 
earthly  career,  and  limited,  so  to  speak,  as  was  its 
first  living  edition,  should  be  lived  over  again  in 
his  published  biography,  for  the  use  of  the  universal 
church  to  which  he  belonged,  and  for  the  wide  world 
of  struggling  humanity,  which  characters  like  that 
herein  portrayed  do  at  once  illustrate  and  adorn. 

It  is  through  the  published  memorials  of  a  good 
man's  deeds,  words,  and  example,  that  "  being  dead 
he  yet  speaketh."  Our  care  will  therefore  be,  as  editor 
and  compiler,  to  let  the  endeared  subject  of  these 
memorials  speak  for  himself.  Links  that  may  be 
wanting  in  the  chain  of  facts,  binding  together  the 
different  passages  of  his  life,  we  shall  supply  ;  and  the 
testimony  of  congenial  minds,  familiar  with  the  cha 
racter  herein  exhibited,  we  shall  not  exclude.  But 
our  aim  will  be,  through  the  original  letters  and  jour 
nals  of  the  deceased,  to  present  rather  an  autobio 
graphy  than  a  history,  and  to  make  the  character 
daguerreotype  itself  on  the  mind  of  the  reader,  ra 
ther  than  ourselves  to  execute  a  portrait  of  it. 

After  a  few  items  of  his  birth  and  boyhood  in  the 
present  chapter,  we  shall  have  recourse  to  original 
papers  and  relics,  as  the  only  material  for  future 
sections,  wherein  it  will  be  our  endeavor  to  reflect 
the  grace  of  Christ,  as  mirrored  in  the  experience  of 
one  of  his  loveliest  disciples,  both  in  the  blade,  the 
ear,  and  the  full  corn  in  the  ear. 

"Wordsworth,  with  true  insight,  justly  remarks  that 
u  the  character  of  a  deceased  friend  or  beloved  kins 
man  is  not  seen — no,  nor  ought  to  be  seen,  otherwise 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEB,    M.D.  11 

than  as  a  tree  through  .a  tender  haze,  or  a  luminous 
mist,  that  spiritualizes  and  beautifies  it;  that  takes 
away,  indeed,  but  only  to  the  end  that  the  parts  which 
are  not  abstracted  may  appear  more  dignified  and 
lovely — may  impress  and  affect  the  more.  Shall  we 
say,  then,  that  this  is  not  truth — not  a  faithful  image  ; 
and  that,  accordingly,  the  purposes  of  commemoration 
cannot  be  answered  ?  It  is  truth,  and  of  the  highest 
order ;  for  though,  doubtless,  things  are  not  apparent 
which  did  exist,  yet  the  object  being  looked  at  through 
this  medium,  parts  and  proportions  are  brought  into 
distinct  view,  which  before  had  been  imperfectly  or 
unconsciously  seen.  It  is  truth  hallowed  by  love — the 
joint  offspring  of  the  worth  of  the  dead  and  affections 
of  the  living.  The  composition  and  quality  of  the 
mind  of  a  virtuous  man,  contemplated  by  the  side  of 
the  grave  where  his  body  is  mouldering,  ought  to 
appear  and  be  felt  as  something  midway  between 
what  he  was  on  earth,  walking  about  with  his  living 
frailties,  and  what  he  may  be  presumed  to  be  as  a 
spirit  in  heaven." 

The  subject  of  this  memoir  was  born  at  Hallowell, 
Maine,  on  the  29th  of  March,  1816,  being  the  sixth 
child  of  Charlotte  Barrell  and  Nathaniel  Cheever. 
He  was  one  of  a  family  of  four  sons  and  three  daugh 
ters,  of  whom  only  four  arrived  at  adult  years.  His 
grandmother,  by  the  father's  side,  was  sister  of  the 
Hev.  Dr.  Aaron  Bancroft,  of  Worcester,  Massachu 
setts — a  woman  of  a  strong  mind  and  true  piety.  His 
paternal  grandfather,  Nathaniel  Cheever,  of  Salem, 
Massachusetts,  died  early,  but  was  noted  among  his 


12  MEMOEIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

townsmen  as  a  man  that  "  feared  God  and  eschewed 
evil." 

His  maternal  ancestors  were  of  the  Barrell  and  Say- 
ward  family,  of  York,  Maine,  the  grandmother  being 
the  only  daughter  of  Jonathan  Sayward,  and  eminent 
for  her  virtues  as  a  woman  and  a  Christian ;  and  as  the 
mother  of  eleven  children,  nine  of  whom  were  success 
fully  reared  to  adult  life,  blessed  with  a  numerous  pos 
terity. 

His  grandfather,  Nathaniel  Barrell,  Esq.,  was  the 
eldest  of  twelve  sons,  and  for  several  years  before  the 
American  revolution,  was  one  of  the  councillors  of 
Governor  Wentworth,  of  New  Hampshire.  After 
embracing  Christianity,  he  adopted  the  religious  views 
of  Robert  Sandiman,  which  he  practically  exemplified, 
and  held  with  inflexible  tenacity  to  the  close  of  life,  at 
the  advanced  age  of  ninety-nine. 

The  father  of  Nathaniel  died  at  the  early  age  of 
forty,  of  pulmonary  consumption,  in  the  hopes  of  the 
gospel,  at  Augusta,  Georgia,  where  he  had  gone  in 
pursuit  of  health,  his  youngest  son,  the  subject  of  this 
memoir,  being  but  three  years  of  age.  He  had  ac 
quired  an  honorable  competence  for  the  support  and 
education  of  his  family,  in  the  industrious  exercise  of 
his  profession  as  printer,  editor,  publisher,  and  book 
seller  ;  and  he  had  won  among  his  fellow  citizens  a 
worthy  repute  for  high  integrity,  energy,  and  public 
spirit. 

As  an  infant,  Nathaniel  is  said  to  have  been  marked 
by  uncommon  intelligence  and  sweetness  of  temper, 
always  waking  from  his  cradle  with  a  sunny  smile. 


OF   NATHANIEL    CIIEEVEB,    M.D.  13 

He  was  born  just  three  months  after  his  parents  had 
lost  their  eldest  child,  a  noble  boy  of  eleven,  by 
drowning,  while  skating  upon  the  Kennebec.  The 
resemblance  to  him  of  the  new-born  was  so  striking 
in  every  respect,  as  to  have  been  noticed  as  a  remark 
able  fact  in  physiology.  He  bore  his  name,  his  form, 
his  features  and  lineaments  of  countenance ;  and  in 
the  mental  and  moral  structure  of  the  two,  the  corres 
pondence  was  deemed  equally  explicit  and  peculiar, 
doubtless  through  the  force  of  the  maternal  imagination, 
prepossessed  as  it  must  have  been  with  the  image  of 
the  eldest-born,  so  suddenly  snatched  from  her  sight. 

His  characteristics  as  a  child  were  a  very  strong 
affection  for  all  about  him,  but  especially  for  his 
mother,  extreme  conscientiousness  and  regard  for  the 
truth,  and  uncommon  susceptibility  to  religious  im 
pressions.  Such  was  his  uniform  out-gushing  cheer 
fulness,  and  so  inexhaustible  was  his  faculty  of  ex 
tracting  happiness  from  everything,  that  by  guests  in 
the  family  he  was  named  "  SUNSHINE  ;"  and  they  used 
to  say  it  was  enough  to  make  a  person  happy  to  look 
at  him.  When  he  was  nine  or  ten  years  of  age, 
perfectly  healthy,  buoyant,  and  beautiful,  those  that 
beheld  him  felt  unwilling  he  should  grow  any  older. 

His  relish  was  keen  for  all  the  sports  and  recrea 
tions  of  childhood,  and  his  amiable  temper,  joined  with 
his  love  for  making  others  happy,  made  all  his  mates 
his  friends.  One  summer  evening,  after  school,  he 
was  tempted  to  indulge  in  sailing  along  shore,  without 
the  consent  of  his  mother,  on  a  little  flotilla,  with  his 
elder  brother,  who  was  most  to  blame  in  the  matter. 


1-i  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

Being  found  out,  they  were  called  to  account,  and 
questioned  bow  long  they  had  practised  this  sport. 
Nathaniel,  in  his  answers,  became  involved  in  a  seem 
ing  contradiction ;  and  it  so  wrought  upon  his  sensitive, 
conscientious  mind,  that  for  years  after,  fearful  lest  he 
should  not  state  the  exact  trath,  he  would  not  affirm 
positively,  either  in  narrating  a  thing  or  giving  his 
opinion.  But  the  form  of  expression  he  adopted  was, 
"  I  believe — I  believe  it  is  so ;"  "  I  believe — I  believe  I 
did  it ;"  "  I  believe — I  believe  that  was  the  way  ;"  "  / 
believe — I  believe  I  said  so  or  thought  so." 

His  fondness  for  the  Bible  was  early  shown.  On 
the  occasion  of  an  annual  thanksgiving,  his  eldest 
brother  had  given  a  Bible  to  his  only  sister  and  to  his 
other  brother ;  but  supposing  another  kind  of  book 
would  be  more  acceptable  to  Nathaniel  from  his  ex 
treme  youth,  he  bought  him  a  beautiful  history  of  ani 
mals,  with  fine  colored  engravings.  "When  he  had 
received  it,  and  compared  his  present  with  the  two 
others,  he  said  to  his  mother,  "  This  is  a  beautiful  book 
George  has  got  for  me,  but  how  much  I  wish  he  had 
given  me  a  Bible,  as  he  has  to  Elizabeth  and  Henry." 
Acting  on  this  suggestion,  a  Bible  like  his  brother's  was 
at  once  bought  for  him,  and  his  name  written  on  the 
fly-leaf  as  a  thanksgiving  present. 

This  same  Bible  was  his  constant  companion  ever 
after,  in  divers  and  distant  parts  of  the  world.  It  is 
pencilled  throughout  by  his  own  hand,  and  bears  the 
marks  of  diligent  and  careful  perusal.  Large  portions 
of  it  were  committed  by  him  to  memory  while  travel 
ling. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVER,    M.D.  15 

His  first  vivid  religions  impressions  under  preach 
ing,  are  believed  to  have  been  when  eight  years  of 
age,  under  the  labors  of  Kev.  Joshua  Noble  Danforth, 
who  was  then  spending  a  few  weeks  in  conjunction 
with  the  pastor  at  Hallo  well,  Rev.  Dr.  Gillet.  Prayer- 
meetings  were  then  held  at  his  mother's  ;  and  he  was 
allowed,  as  a  great  privilege,  to  go  out  with  her  occa 
sionally  of  an  evening.  The  religious  instruction,  the 
singing  and  prayers,  greatly  affected  him,  and  he  was 
all  animated  with  the  spirit  of  revival.  He  now  spent 
much  time  in  prayer  by  himself,  and  he  would  talk 
and  pray  with  his  schoolmates  one  by  one.  • 

Returning  once  from  meeting,  he  said  to  his  mother, 
u  I  believe — I  believe  I'm  converted  ;  I've  thought  of 
what  Mr.  Danforth  has  said  ;  I  think  I  never  shall 
do  wrong  any  more ;  I  am  sure  there  will  be  a  re 
vival  ;  it  has  begun  in  my  heart  ;  shall  I  not  be  a 
Christian  ?" 

Whether  or  not  there  was  a  change  of  heart  effected 
at  this  time,  cannot  be  told.  His  own  judgment  after 
ward  was  rather  that  no  such  saving  change  was  then 
wrought,  but  evident  progress  was  making  toward  the 
kingdom  of  heaven ;  and  the  salutary  effect  of  the 
religious  exercises  of  his  mind  at  this  time,  was  never 
effiiced.  He  was  then,  and  for  several  years  after,  a 
member  of  the  Sabbath  school,  until  prevented  from 
attending  by  his  sickness. 

His  boyhood,  up  to  the  time  of  his  first  winter's 
confinement,  in  1828-29,  was  a  very  happy  one. 
Home  was  happy.  All  his  affections  had  their  play 
with  mother,  sister,  brother.  School-day  time  was 


16  MEMORIALS   OF   THE    LIFE 

happy.  He  loved  his  teachers  and  his  mates,  and  was 
loved  by  them.  Existence,  those  few  years,  was  one 
long  joy. 

"  0  blessed  vision !  happy  child ! 
Thou  art  so  exquisitely  wild, 
I  think  of  thee  with  many  fears 
For  what  may  be  thy  lot  in  future  years. 
Ah,  too,  industrious  folly ! 
Ah,  vain  and  causeless  melancholy ! 
Nature  will  either  end  thee  quite, 
Or,  lengthening  out  thy  season  of  delight, 
Preserve  for  thee,  by  individual  right, 
A  young  lamb's  heart  among  the  full-grown  flocks. 
What  hast  thou  to  do  with  sorrow, 
Or  the  injuries  of  to-morrow  ? 
Thou  art  a  dew-drop,  which  the  morn  brings  forth, 
Not  framed  to  undergo  unkindly  shocks, 
Or  to  be  trailed  along  the  soiling  earth, 
A  gem  that  glitters  while  it  lives, 
And  no  forewarning  gives  ; 
But,  at  the  touch  of  wrong,  without  a  strife, 
Slips  in  a  moment  out  of  life." 

God's  thoughts  are  not  as  our  thoughts,  and  Infinite 
Wisdom  had  ordained  an  ordeal  of  suffering  for  one 
that  seemed  born  only  for  joy.  The  Captain  of  our  Sal 
vation  was  made  perfect  by  sufferings  ;  and  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  almost  all  that  have  attained  to  eminent  holiness 
in  this  life,  have  gone  up  by  the  same  road.  In  Cowper's 
own  sweet  words,  who  well  knew  the  truth  of  them, 

The  path  of  sorrow,  and  that  path  alone, 
Leads  to  the  land  where  sorrow  is  unknown. 

In  an  autumn  evening  of  1828,  while  waiting  in 


OF   NATUA.NIEL    GHEKVER,    M.D.  17 

the  open  air  the  arrival  of  a  stage-coach  with  his 
mother,  he  incurred  a  severe  cold,  in  the  train  of  which, 
owing  to  some  hitherto  undeveloped  peculiarity  of  con 
stitution,  there  followed  a  confirmed  asthma.  The  fol 
lowing  winter,  being  under  medical  treatment  for  his 
cough,  he  was  like  an  imprisoned  bird.  Unaccustomed 
to  confinement,  and  his  buoyant  spirits  yet  unbroken, 
the  discipline  was  irksome  and  hard  to  bear ;  and 
there  were  not  then  those  religious  consolations  which 
he  afterward  experienced  so  fully. 

But  neither  at  this  time,  nor  ever  after,  was  he  a 
fretting  sufferer ;  for  the  natural  sweetness  of  his  dis 
position  was  always  ascendant.  Frequent  religious 
conversations  with  a  clergyman  in  the  family  that 
first  winter  of  disease,  were  highly  beneficial  to  him. 
His  feelings  were  very  tender  on  the  subject  of  re 
ligion,  and  continued  so  with  much  anxiety  and  deep 
conviction  through  the  following  summer,  as  will  be 
seen  in  the  pages  of  his  private  journal. 

On  his  return  to  Hallowell  from  a  summer's  resi 
dence  by  the  sea-side,  in  the  fall  of  1829,  his  religious 
views  and  habits  became  settled,  his  hope  in  Christ 
strong,  and  his  interest  in  others'  salvation  very  deep 
and  engaging.  A  member  of  the  family  says  of  him 
at  that  time,  that  Doddridge's  Rise  and  Progress,  with 
his  Bible  and  Hymn-book,  were  his  daily  companions ; 
meditation,  prayer,  and  praise,  his  solace  ;  and  it  was 
affecting  to  see  one  so  young  thus  engaged.  Of 
Watts'  hymns,  "  I'm  not  ashamed  to  own  my  Lord." 
"  Firm  as  the  earth  thy  gospel  stands,"  "  Not  all  the 
blood  of  beasts,"  were  particular  favorites.  There 


18  MEMORIALS    OF  THE   LIFE 

were  many  of  Cowper's  and  Newton's  equally  precious 
to  him.  "  O,  for  a  closer  walk  with  God,"  "  It  is  the 
Lord  en  throned  in  light,"  "There  is  a  fountain  filled 
with  blood,"  "  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul,"  "  Ye  angels 
who  stand  round  the  throne,"  "  The  voice  of  free 
grace,"  "  Kise  my  soul,  and  stretch  thy  wings,"  and 
many  others  he  delighted  to  read  and  sing.  "  Begone 
unbelief,  my  Saviour  is  near,"  was  first  sung  by  us  at 
an  extraordinary  season  of  temptation  he  endured,  to 
which  allusion  is  made  in  his  journal. 

In  due  time  God  delivered  him  from  all  disquieting 
fears,  doubts,  and  regrets ;  and  cheerful  activity  in  his 
Master's  service,  at  every  relaxation  of  disease,  cha 
racterized  his  course  for  many  years.  He  used  to  visit 
a  cabinet-maker's  shop,  where  were  several  young 
men,  and  one  or  two  lads  near  his  own  age,  in  the 
hope  of  engaging  their  attention  to  serious  things. 
One  morning,  coming  in  from  them,  grieved  at  having 
heard  profane  language,  and  feeling  that  he  ought  to 
have  said  something  to  the  person  uttering  it,  he 
could  not  be  satisfied  until,  finding  "  The  Swearer's 
Prayer,"  and  going  back  with  the  tract  to  the  shop, 
he  gave  it,  with  a  few  words  of  expostulation,  to  the 
young  man.  They  gave  him  the  designation  of  The 
Little  Missionary,  by  way  of  ridicule  ;  but  this  did 
not  prevent  his  earnest  desires  for  their  conversion, 
and  ingenuous  efforts  in  their  behalf. 

His  regard  for  the  Sabbath  all  through  his  youth 
was  peculiar  j  his  grief  in  its  profanation  often  ex 
pressed  ;  and  he  was  frequently  known  to  take  a  tract 
upon  the  claims  of  the  Sabbath,  and  go  out  to  give  it 


OF  NATHANIEL   CHEEVER,    M.D.  19 

to  persons  who  were  desecrating  the  holy  day.  No 
one  could  refuse  to  listen  to  a  word  of  remonstrance 
from  one  so  young  and  interesting  in  his  personal  ap 
pearance. 

In  the  absence  of  both  his  brothers  at  this  time,  he  re 
sorted,  as  by  a  social  necessity,  to  more  intimate  self- 
communications  with  his  mother  and  sister,  such  being 
the  frankness  and  affection  of  his  character  by  grace  and 
nature,  that  his  mental  exercises  and  emotions  must  be 
shared  by  others  in  order  to  be  enjoyed  by  himself. 
Many  hours  were  spent  at  his  bed-side,  after  he  had  re 
tired  for  the  night,  in  delightful  converse.  We  have 
often  regretted  that  some  record  was  not  preserved  of 
those  nightly  conversations.  So  attractive  and  heaven 
ly  would  he  often  be,  it  was  difficult  to  leave  him. 

His  mother  sometimes,  in  his  early  sickness,  would 
express  her  sorrow  in  leaving  him  alone  through  the 
night.  Once,  in  particular,  he  sweetly  answered  her, 
in  the  words  of  Scripture,  as  his  manner  was,  "  What 
time  I  am  afraid,  I  will  trust  in  the  Lord." 

His  early  development  of  faith  and  devout  emotion, 
was  no  less  remarkable  than  his  religious  activity.  His 
Christian  character,  at  the  first  youthful  period,  when 
the  hand  of  disease  was  laid  on  him  so  heavily,  was 
signalized  by  a  great  love  of  personal  labor  for  the 
conversion  of  those  to  w^hom  he  could  gain  access. 
With  a  few  tracts  in  his  hand,  he  would  pursue  his 
walks,  and  speak  fervently  to  those  to  whom  he  pre 
sented  them  ;  and  the  very  sight  of  one  so  young  and 
so  feeble,  engaged  in  such  a  work,  with  such  sim 
plicity  and  earnestness,  had  great  power. 


20  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

So  deeply  liad  this  habit,  together  with  the  desire 
of  usefulness,  taken  possession  of  his  being,  that,  at 
times,  it  seemed  uppermost  even  in  his  dreams.  His 
mother  was  accustomed  to  leave  a  cane  by  his  bed 
side,  that  he  might  knock  in  the  night,  should  any 
assistance  be  needed,  under  a  paroxysm  of  disease. 
One  night  a  loud  knocking  was  heard,  and  the  family 
having  hastened  to  him,  found  him  still  asleep,  but 
with  the  cane  in  his  hand,  as  calling  for  assistance. 
"When  it  was  inquired  what  he  wanted,  "  Mother,"  was 
his  earnest,  unconscious  exclamation,  "  I  can't  make 
sinners  hear  !  I  can't  make  sinners  hear  P 

On  one  occasion,  his  sister  had  been  out  for  the 
afternoon,  and  did  not  return  till  the  latter  part  of  the 
evening.  It  was  in  the  summer.  He  had  retired, 
being  fatigued  with  the  day's  exertion,  though,  at 
that  time,  better  than  usual  in  health.  As  was  always 
our  custom,  his  room  was  the  first  place  sought  in 
coming  home.  She  went  to  tell  him  of  the  visit,  and 
convey  the  messages  of  Christian  friends.  He  was 
full  of  animation  and  hope ;  had  been  to  Gardiner  to 
visit  the  iron-foundry  during  the  day,  and  his  mind 
was  much  excited  with  the  thoughts  started  by  what  he 
had  seen.  In  giving  an  account  of  it,  said  he : 
"  When  looking  into  the  heated  furnace,  with  the  red 
ore,  I  thought  of  the  three  worthies  who  were  cast 
into  the  one  seven  times  heated  ;  and  I  felt  as  I  gazed 
upon  the  burning  flames,  that  if  Christ  should  call 
me,  I  could  go  through  them  without  fear."  Such 
was  his  joyous  experience  at  that  time  of  the  love  of 
Christ. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEK,    M.I).  21 

A  little  after  this,  while  suffering  severely  under  an 
attack  of  asthma,  he  was  asked  by  one  of  the  family, 
who  was  going  to  visit  a  beloved  relative,  what  mes 
sage  she  should  carry  from  him.  "  Tell  her,"  was  his 
immediate  reply,  in  the  manner  peculiar  to  himself — 
"  tell  her,  with  my  love,  that  the  hand  of  the  Lord  is 
heavy  upon  me,  yet  I  rejoice  in  him  daily." 

Sacred  music,  by  the  voice  and  piano,  was  a  delight 
and  solace  to  him  in  his  affliction.  The  hallowed  lan 
guage  of  praise  and  adoration  was  often  upon  his  lips  ; 
and  his  voice,  thrilled  by  feeling,  was  full  of  melody. 
One  morning,  when  he  was  more  than  ordinarily  under 
the  power  of  disease,  and  panting  for  breath,  his  mother 
had  left  the  room  upon  his  partial  recovery  from  a  severe 
coughing  spell.  It  was  but  a  few  minutes  after  that 
she  was  arrested  by  the  sound  of  singing  from  his 
apartment ;  it  was  his  own  voice,  lifted  in  praise  for 
relief,  warbling  its  gratitude  in  that  verse  of  Watts' : 

I'll  praise  my  Maker  with  my  breath  ; 
And  when  my  voice  is  lost  in  death, 

Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  powers  : 
My  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  past, 
While  life,  and  thought,  and  being  last, 

Or  immortality  endures. 

He  was  always  ready  to  acknowledge  the  least 
alleviation  in  his  suffering ;  and  his  most  general  answer 
to  the  common  inquiry,  how  he  was,  would  be,  "  I  feel 
better  now."  It  was  customary  in  the  earlier  treat 
ment  of  his  malady,  to  administer  emetics  of  Ipecac. 
Relief  to  his  painful  wheezing  was  generally  imme 
diate  upon  the  operation  of  one  of  these  emetics ;  and 


22  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

the  sweet  playfulness  of  his  nature  would  then  shine 
out  with  peculiar  lustre. 

At  such  times  especially,  says  one  who  was  called 
to  this  office  of  love  for  a  series  of  years,  it  was  a 
delightful  privilege  to  minister  to  him.  Affection 
was  never  weary  in  its  tender  offices  ;  and  to  the  suf 
ferer  it  was  a  great  consolation  to  have  those  whom 
he  loved  so  tenderly  in  his  presence  and  sight.  I  re 
member  learning  that  lovely  piece  of  Leigh  Hunt  to 
his  son,  six  years  old,  during  sickness,  while  keeping 
watch  around  his  bed  in  one  of  his  attacks  of  asthma. 
The  two  .first  verses  seemed  a  life-like  description  of 
our  brother,  arid  the  whole  was  strikingly  expressive 
of  our  feelings  : 

Sleep  breathes  at  last  from  out  thee, 

My  little  patient  boy ; 
And  balmy  rest  about  thee 

Smooths  off  the  day's  annoy 
I  sit  me  down  and  think 

Of  all  thy  winning  ways  ; 
Yet  almost  wish,  with  sudden  shrink, 

That  I  had  less  to  praise. 
Thy  sidelong  pillowed  meekness, 

Thy  thanks  to  all  that  aid, 
Thy  heart,  in  pain  and  weakness, 

Of  fancied  faults  afraid  ; 

The  little  trembling  hand 

That  wipes  thy  quiet  tears  : 
These— these  are  things  that  may  demand 

Dread  memories  for  years. 

He  was  grateful  for  the  least  attention,  and  always 
expressed  pleasure  in  receiving  any  favor,  even  as  he 
delighted  to  give  pleasure  to  others,  often  exerting 


M.D.  23 

himself  beyond  his  strength  in  order  to  entertain 
those  about  him.  Good  old  Deacon  Gow,  a  Scotch 
man,  and  a  pillar  of  the  church,  was  in  the  habit  of 
visiting  at  his  mother's  whenever  the  teachers'  meet 
ing  was  held  there  ;  and  it  was  interesting  to  see 
them  together — the  aged  saint  and  youthful  disciple — 
in  close  communion  upon  heavenly  things.  The  deaf 
ness  of  the  deacon  made  it  a  great  effort  for  the  young 
invalid  to  converse  with  him,  unless  he  was  remark 
ably  well ;  yet,  how  often  has  he  been  known  to  seat 
himself  by  the  side  of  the  patriarch,  and  sustain  an 
animated  conversation  when  gasping  for  breath.  The 
good  old  man,  now  in  glory,  truly  loved  his  society  ; 
and  he  was  often  heard  to  say,  after  spending  an  after 
noon  with  him,  "  I  have  really  been  edified  and  in 
structed  by  that  young  disciple." 

These  interviews  were  frequent  after  uniting  with 
the  church  at  the  age  of  fourteen.  The  time  of  his 
joining  was  a  season  of  peculiar  religious  interest 
at  Hallowell,  under  the  ministry  of  Rev.  George 
Shepard.  Many  young  persons  were  then  subjects  of 
the  grace  of  God,  with  several  of  whom  he  contracted 
a  warm  friendship,  which  after  settlement  and  useful 
ness  in  life  never  abated.  Their  interviews  together 
under  his  mother's  roof,  were  precious  and  refreshing 
seasons,  which  will  be  dear  in  the  memories  of  eter 
nity. 

Confined,  as  he  was,  for  a  long  time,  to  the  society 
of  home,  there  was,  of  necessity,  a  freedom  of  inter 
course  not  common  in  ordinary  life.  His  love,  from 
early  childhood,  was  strong  for  his  kindred,  and  to  all 


2-1:  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

about  him  he  was  greatly  endeared.  For  one  espe 
cially,  a  lovely  cousin,  when  a  very  little  boy,  his 
affection  was  ardent  and  sincere.  She  was  his  fre 
quent  companion  in  his  first  sickness ;  and  his  desires 
for  her  conversion,  after  the  change  in  his  own  feel 
ings,  were  very  strong.  He  told  his  mother  that  he 
could  tell  Charlotte  everything,  and  make  her  his 
entire  confident  formerly  ;  but  now  he  found  it  dif 
ficult  to  express  to  her  his  earnest  wishes  for  her  con 
version,  but  was  consoled  in  the  thought  that  he  could 
pray  for  her. 

It  is  very  rare  to  find  united  such  a  pure,  impelling 
love  for  souls,  and  warm,  natural  affection  for  friends. 
His  attachment  to  his  pastor,  also,  was  very  strong. 
When  detained  by  the  weather,  or  an  attack  of  his 
malady,  from  the  sanctuary  on  the  Sabbath,  his  minis 
ter,  Mr.  Shepard,  invariably  called  to  see  him  on 
Monday  morning,  and  contributed,  by  his  attention 
and  kindness,  very  greatly  to  his  happiness. 

He  thus  speaks  of  his  leaving  Hallowell,  in  a  note 
dated  October  8th,  1836  :  "  The  painful  moment  to  part 
with  our  beloved  Mr.  Shepard  and  family,  has  now 
come.  Mrs.  S.  has  taken  leave  of  us  this  afternoon. 
It  is  indeed  a  c  wrenching'  of  ties  to  have  him  thus 
leave  his  present  sphere  of  usefulness,  and  an  affec 
tionate  people.  To  many  here  it  is  not  clearly  seen  to 
be  his  duty.  But  I  hope  he  will  be  eminently  useful 
at  Bangor,  and  that  the  Lord  will  provide  for  his  peo 
ple  here,  though  it  is  doubtful  if  another  so  able  and 
good  a  man  as  Mr.  S.  be  found." 

"When,  at  another  time,  he  himself  was  about  leav- 


OF   NATHANIEL    CIIEEVEK,  M.D.  230 

ing  his  native  place,  with  his  next  elder  brother,  for  a 
voyage  to  foreign  parts,  in  quest  of  health,  and  was 
endeavoring  to  combat  the  anxieties  of  his  mother,  in 
view  of  separation,  he  said  to  her,  with  his  peculiar 
simplicity  and  sweetness,  "  Why,  mother,  if  I  were  to 
die  here,  surrounded  by  you  all,  I  must  die  alone. 
You  could  not  go  with  me  through  the  dark  valley ; 
and  if  I  die  away  from  you,  I  know  I  shall  have  the 
presence  of  Christ  to  relieve  the  gloom.  I  am  sure 
he  will  be  with  me  ;  and  what  more  do  I  need  ?  You 
must  be  comforted  in  the  thought  of  such  a  constant 
friend.  He  will  never  leave  nor  forsake  me."  At  the 
same  time,  he  wrote  an  affectionate  note  of  farewell  to 
his  pastor,  and  another  requesting  the  prayers  of  the 
church  in  his  absence,  to  be  read  at  church-meeting. 

He  used  often  to  say,  after  his  distressing  paroxysms 
of  asthma,  that  he  thought  it  most  probable  he  should 
yet  be  taken  away  in  one  ;  and  that  he  felt  perfectly 
willing  to  die  so  if  his  heavenly  Father  should  see  fit 
to  remove  him.  He  thought  he  suffered  more  than  the 
agonies  of  death  at  such  time ;  but  would  often  add, 
that  he  had  such  delightful  views  of  the  heavenly 
world  and  its  glories,  in  the  midst  of  his  sufferings, 
that  he  longed  to  take  his  place  there,  and  be  free 
from  the  impediments  of  the  material  vehicle  which 
pressed  so  heavily  upon  his  spirit  here.  These  conso 
lations,  as  well  as  sufferings,  and  the  temper  with 
which  he  bore  them,  greatly  enhanced  the  love  of  his 
friends. 

In  sickness  or  health,  in  joy  or  sorrow,  he  was  in 
expressibly  dear  to  us  from  childhood  upwards.  Wo 
2 


26  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

were  one  as  boys,  and  happy  all  day  long  at  school 
and  at  play,  skating  and  sliding,  nutting  and  swim 
ming,  and  trundling  our  hoops.  And  then,  how  mutu 
ally  dear  we  were  when  separated  the  first  summer  of 
his  sickness — the  one  to  go  to  Phillips'  Academy,  An- 
dover,  the  other  to  Old  York  in  quest  of  health.  And 
ever  after  how  beloved  he  was,  through  those  long 
years  of  sanctified  suffering  on  his  part,  whereby  he 
led  the  way  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  until  we  were 
together  again,  and  all  in  all  to  each  other  in  our 
wanderings  upon  the  sea,  and  our  sojourn  in  the 
south  of  Spain ! 

It  has  been  a  mournful,  and  yet,  with  the  sunny 
rays  of  his  character  always  shining  upon  us  from  his 
actions  and  words  here  recorded,  it  has  been  a  happy 
survey  that  we  have  taken  in  this  volume  of  his  varied 
life  and  peaceful  death.  The  friends  who  shall  follow 
us  in  it,  will  learn  much  that  will  be  instructive,  both  of 
the  inner  and  the  outer  life  of  one  that  was  truly  a 
child  of  God,  while  a  person  of  rare  intellect,  taste,  and 
sensibility;  who  travelled  far  and  widely  in  pursuit 
of  health,  without  ever  losing  his  heart's  best  trea 
sure — the  love  of  Christ. 

If  a  sweet,  social  temper,  gushing  love 

For  kindred  and  for  kind,  spirits  forever 

Sparkling  and  buoyant  as  a  spring's  light  bubbles  ; 

Mirth,  candor,  frankness,  the  desire  to  give 

Pleasure  to  friends,  and  good  to  every  one ; 

And  more  than  all,  true  love  for  Christ  and  souls — 

If  these  be  traits  that  mark  a  genial  nature, 

Beloved  and  formed  to  bless,  through  God's  rich  grace, 

Our  cherished  brother  was  that  happy  man. 


27 

No  more  the  tender  offices  of  love 
We  pay  him  here  on  earth,  but  all  his  virtues 
We  fondly  cherish ;  and  that  radiant  face, 
From  its  calm  sphere  within  the  spirit  world, 
Like  a  bright  star  shall  still  look  down  and  cheer 
Our  life's  sojournings,  till  at  length  we  come 
Where  he  the  promises,  through  patient  faith, 
Inherits,  and  enjoys  the  rest  of  heaven ! 

We  add  here,  as  presenting  certain  aspects  and  im 
pressions  of  the  character,  through  the  medium  of 
another  mind,  a  letter  from  his  eldest  brother,  George, 
to  the  editor  of  the  New.  York  Evangelist,  addressed 
to  that  paper  from  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  dated 
January  21st,  1845 : 

"  It  is  now  nearly  three  months  since  I  wrote  you 
from  Havre,  on  the  eve  of  starting  on  my  voyage  to 
Cuba.  I  set  sail  thither,  hoping,  by  God's  mercy,  to 
meet  and  comfort  my  dear  brother ;  but  even  before  1 
sailed,  his  spirit  had  taken  its  flight  from  this  suffer 
ing  body,  and  he  had  gone  to  be  forever  with  the 
Lord.  Ah  !  how  little  do  we  know  what  is  before  us ! 
Day  by  day  I  was  counting  the  hours  of  our  passage, 
and  wishing  for  the  land  in  deep  anxiety,  yet  trusting, 
through  the  Lord's  goodness,  to  meet  my  beloved 
brother  in  at  least  as  good  health  as  when  we  parted 
and  anticipating  the  joy  I  would  give  to  his  heart  in 
a  land  of  strangers ;  but  already  he  was  beyond  the 
need  of  earthly  comfort,  surrounded  by  heavenly  com 
panions,  and  with  that  Friend  closer  than  a  brother — • 
that  Saviour  who  loved  him,  and  gave  himself  to  die 
for  him ! 


28  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

"  He  was  indescribably  dear  to  us.  There  is  some 
thing  in  the  sufferings  of  a  friend,  long-continued  and 
patiently  endured,  that  brings  him  nearer  to  the  soul 
than  even  the  ties  of  relationship.  The  more  care  we 
have  to  bestow  upon  those  dear  to  us,  and  the  more 
anxiety  they  cost  us,  the  dearer  they  are.  Is  it  not 
even  so  with  our  blessed  Saviour  towards  those  for 
whom  he  died,  to  heal  whose  sickness,  and  remove 
their  sins,  it  has  cost  him  such  an  infinite  expense  of 
love  and  suffering.  The  greater  that  expense,  the 
more  he  loves  them.  God  has  certainly  implanted, 
even  in  us,  some  such  principle  in  the  constitution  he 
has  given  us.  But  our  Saviour  thus  loved  his  enemies. 
"We  think  it  much  if  we  are  faithful  to  our  friends. 

"  I  may  be  pardoned  if  I  add  a  word  as  to  the  sweet 
character  of  my  departed  brother.  His  natural  love 
liness,  his  talents,  his  acquisitions  of  grace  and  know 
ledge,  his  unceasing,  sparkling  cheerfulness,  even 
amidst  suffering — his  playfulness  and  enjoyment  inr 
social  intercourse,  even  beneath  the  heavy  hand  of 
disease,  were  qualities  that  made  all  love  him  who 
knew  him.  The  frankness  and  simplicity  of  his  nature 
were  like  a  child's ;  and  he  had  such  openness  of 
character,  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  were  just  as  willing 
you  should  see  its  defects  as  discover  its  excellencies. 
An  enthusiastic  ardor  characterized  his  application, 
when  the  intermissions  of  disease  permitted  anything 
like  regularity  in  his  pursuits. 

"  It  had  been  the  desire  of  his  heart  to  engage  in 
the  study  and  work  of  the  ministry  ;  but  cut  off  from 
this — after  years  spent  in  the  fruitless  endeavor  to 


OF  NATHANIEL    CHEEVER,    M.D.  29 

recover  his  health — he  applied  to  the  study  of  medi 
cine,  at  first,  rather  as  an  employment  than  with 
much  hope  ever  to  enter  on  its  practice  as  a  profes 
sion.  His  desire  to  do  something  in  the  world — to  be 
able  to  feel  that  he  was  useful,  was  very  great ;  and 
unspeakable  was  the  anguish  he  sometimes  endured 
in  brooding  over  years  and  energies  wasted  by  dis 
ease.  Sometimes,  when  he  saw  me  at  work,  he  would 
sit  down  and  weep,  with  the  feeling  that  he  was  al 
most  worthless ;  and  all  endearments  could  not  com 
fort  him.  But  God  had  a  blessed  design  in  all  this, 
and,  doubtless,  the  suffering  discipline  was  better  for 
him  than  would  have  been  the  most  successful  labors. 

"  He  prepared,  amidst  illness,  as  his  TJiesis  for  ex 
amination — a  treatise  on  his  own  disorder,  which,  had 
he  been  spared  to  perfect  it,  as  was  his  intention, 
would  certainly,  in  every  respect,  have  been  worthy 
of  publication.  The  difficulties  he  encountered  in 
gaining  his  profession,  and  afterwards  in  overcoming 
the  obstacles  thrown  in  his  way  in  Havana,  during  a 
month  of  tedious  effort,  Spanish  delay,  and  jealous 
scrutiny,  to  obtain  the  degree  necessary  to  practise  in 
a  strange  land,  together  with  the  patient  energy  of  his 
perseverance  in  the  midst  of  those  difficulties,  were 
almost  inconceivable,  and  always  beneath  the  pressure 
of  bodily  weakness  and  suffering. 

"  With  a  friendly  physician  he  visited  patients  under 
the  yellow  fever,  to  gain,  as  soon  as  possible,  a  know 
ledge  of  that  sickness,  and  endeavored  to  communi 
cate  spiritual  comfort  when  he  could  aid  in  no  other 
way.  Established,  at  length,  by  the  providence  of 


30  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

God,  in  Trinidad,  he  was  beloved  by  all  who  knew 
him,  and  seemed  on  the  eve  of  accomplishing,  for  a 
little  season,  the  desire  of  his  life,  when,  by  the  same 
All- wise  Providence,  every  hope  was  blasted,  and 
c  the  bark  perished  even  in  the  haven's  mouth.'  But 
no  !  it  has  not  perished,  bnt  is  only  lost  from  our 
sight  for  a  little  while — in  the  keeping  of  the  Re 
deemer — in  the  light  of  heaven. 

"  It  was  most  painful  to  witness  the  wearing  and  re 
pressing  power  of  disease  upon  his  physical  system, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  the  mind,  unhindered  in  its 
growth,  and  unwearied  in  its  energies,  seemed  as  if 
seeking  deliverance,  or  intended  for  some  stronger 
tabernacle.  A  few  stanzas  of  poetry,  written  to  him 
at  this  period,  describe  the  gradual  and  stern  certainty 
with  which  it  was  felt  that  disease  was  fixed  upon 
him,  and  would  never  depart,  together  with  the 
change  it  had  already  wrought  upon  his  youthful 
and  elastic  frame,  repressing,  also,  as  we  saw,  in  a  sad 
degree,  the  almost  indestructible  buoyancy  of  his 
spirits.  Through  God's  unutterable  mercy,  a  sweet 
Christian  resignation  took  the  place  of  that  buoyancy, 
and  more  than  supplied  its  sustaining  power ;  and 
afterwards,  when  a  residence,  and  travelling  in  mild 
climates,  had  given  his  constitution  a  little  opportu 
nity  to  come  up,  as  it  were,  with  his  mind,  something 
of  the  cheerfulness  of  childhood  seemed  returning  to 
him. 

"  He  had  great  generosity  of  mind  and  heart,  and  a 
most  tender  sympathy  with  others  in  difficulties.  He 
had  been  exposed  to  great  trials  and  perils,  both  of 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEE,    M.D.  31 

soul  and  body,  in  some  of  his  journey  ings  abroad ; 
and  an  experience  as  wdl  as  knowledge  had  been 
given  him,  which  might  have  fitted  him  for  great  use 
fulness,  but  it  pleased  God  otherwise.  Those  who 
knew  him  as  President  of  the  Medical  Temperance 
Society,  in  his  college,  well  remember  with  what 
active,  joyful  zeal  and  earnestness  he  set  himself  to 
animate  its  movements,  to  inspire  an  interest  for  it  in 
others,  and  to  overcome  the  prejudices  of  some  who 
were  opposed  to  it.  It  is  pleasant  to  mention  the 
great  kindness  and  sympathy  of  his  instructor,  Dr. 
Parker,  towards  him — a  kindness  which  he  remem 
bered  with  gratitude  in  a  strange  land. 

"  He  had  no  hope  of  recovery  from  his  disease  by  a 
residence  in  Cuba,  but  only  to  have  it  alleviated,  and 
his  life  spared  a  few  years,  if  God  would  grant  him 
this  mercy.  Often  he  expressed  the  conviction  that 
he  could  not  recover.  '  I  shall  one  day  perish  by  the 
hand  of  Saul,'  he  would  say,  in  reference  to  his 
malady ;  but  thanks  be  unto  God,  he  could  also  say 
with  David,  '  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul  ? 
and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me  ?  Hope  thou 
in  God ;  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him  who  is  the  health  of 
my  countenance  and  my  God  !' 

"  He  was  buried  at  sea.  But  the  sea  shall  give  up  its 
dead;  and  then  the  enraptured  spirit,  that  in  this 
tabernacle  did  groan,  being  burthened — no  longer 
weighed  down  and  fettered  by  the  sickness,  and  pain, 
and  hard-drawn  breath  of  its  imprisoning  clay — shall 
be  clothed  upon  with  a  body  of  incorruption,  power, 
and  glory,  that  mortality  may  be  swallowed  up  of  life. 


32  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

Oh,  blessed  hope  of  the  resurrection!  For  thereby 
c  we  look  for  the  Saviour,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who 
shall  change  our  vile  body,  that  it  may  be  fashioned 
like  unto  his  glorious  body,  according  to  the  working 
whereby  he  is  able  even  to  subdue  all  things  unto 
himself." 

Arrayed  in  glorious  grace, 

Shall  these  vile  bodies  shine ; 
And  every  shape  and  every  face 

Look  heavenly  and  divine. 

"  How  sweet  the  assurance  that  c  our  times  are  in 
his  hand;'  and  how  consoling  the  thought  to  those 
who  have  lost  dear  friends  far  away,  that  '  precious  in 
the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints ;'  and 
that  all  the  circumstances  of  such  deaths  are  ordered 
by  him  in  unutterable  love,  and  for  their  good.     Whe 
ther  his  children  shall  die  at  home  or  abroad,  in  the 
midst  of  strangers  or  encircled  by  sympathizing,  sup 
plicating  friends— whether  those  who  love  them  shall 
walk  with  them,  and  talk  with  them,  and  pray  with 
them  clown  to  the  river  of  death,  and  bid  them  fare 
well  on  its  borders,  within  sight  of  the  celestial  city, 
or  whether  they  shall  enter  it  alone,  and  yet,  not  alone 
where  Christ  himself  is  present,  and  bright  commis 
sioned  angels  are  waiting  on  the  soul !" 


OF  NATHANIEL   CHEEVEB,    M.D.  33 


CHAPTEE   II. 

YOUTHFUL    DIAKY,     RELIGIOUS     LIFE     AND     CONSECRATION, 
BEING   AN   EXEMPLIFICATION   OF    GRACE   IN   THE   BUD. 

?Tis  greatly  wise  to  talk  with  our  past  hours, 
And  ask  them  what  report  they  bore  to  heaven  ; 
And  how  they  might  have  borne  more  welcome  news ; 
Their  answers  form  what  men  EXPERIENCE  call. 

YOUNG. 

WE  enter  now  upon  a  series  of  extracts  from  the 
private  journal,  begun  by  the  subject  of  this  memoir, 
when  thirteen  years  of  age.  It  was  intended  solely 
for  his  own  benefit,  and  his  own  eye,  as  a  means  of 
self-improvement  and  self-examination ;  and  the  bene 
ficial  results  to  himself  upon  his  style  and  his  cha 
racter  strongly  commend  the  experiment  to  others  of 
his  age.  His  entries  are  often  little  more  than  a  sum 
mary  of  his  days,  marked  by  great  simplicity  and 
naturalness  of  expression,  though  generally  in  lan 
guage  maturer  than  his  years.  He  kept  another  jour 
nal  for  the  use  of  his  friends  as  well  as  himself,  from 
the  time  that  he  left  home  in  pursuit  of  health.  They 
are  both  written,  like  all  his  papers,  in  a  legible,  clear 
2* 


34:  MEMORIALS   OF   THE  LIFE 

hand,  and  were  kept  with  singular  neatness,  order,  and 
precision,  furnishing  a  practical  proof  and  commen 
tary  of  his  methodical  and  regular  habits  of  business 
and  self-discipline,  in  the  formation  of  which  he  was 
thrown  almost  entirely  upon  his  own  resources  and 
perseverance,  having  little  help  from  training  in 
school  after  his  twelfth  year.  The  pa^es  of  his  jour 
nals,  together  with  letters  which  will  be  interspersed, 
constitute  an  unmeant  auto-biography,  to  which  we 
shall  be  mainly  confined  for  the  material  of  future 
chapters.  Our  extracts  begin  soon  after  the  com 
mencement  of  his  youthful  diary : 

Hallowell,  March  29thy  1829.— SABBATH. — The  anniver 
sary  of  my  natal  day  has  at  length  arrived,  and  with  how 
much  better  health  than  the  last !  With  how  great  forbear 
ance  has  the  Lord  borne  me  through  sickness — me,  so  un 
worthy  the  notice  of  an  All-wise  and  Infinite  Being,  and 
given  me  as  much  health  as  I  do  now  enjoy.  Can  my  grati 
tude  be  too  heartfelt  to  him  who  has  thus  kindly  brought  me 
to  the  beginning  of  another  year  in  so  much  health,  peace, 
and  comfort  ?  Ought  it  not  to  humble  me  to  see  my  entire 
dependence  upon  him  ?  His  mercies  are  so  abundant,  I  can 
exclaim  with  the  Psalmist : 

Lord,  when  I  count  thy  mercies  o'er, 

They  strike  me  with  surprise  ; 
Not  all  the  sands  that  spread  the  shore, 

To  equal  numbers  rise. 
My  flesh  with  fear  and  wonder  stand 

The  product  of  thy  skill ; 
And  hourly  blessings  from  thy  hand 

Thy  thoughts  of  love  reveal. 

April  Qtk. — I  have  been  employed  a  part  of  this  morning 
in  writing  a  letter  to  George.  I  can  perceive  every  day  a 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVER,    M.D.  35 

great  many  faults  in  my  conduct,  which  must  be  speedily 
remedied.  But  it  is  of  no  avail  if  we  see  our  faults,  and  do 
not  correct  them.  We  must,  with  a  stern  determination, 
resolve  to  correct  whatever  we  see  amiss  in  ourselves,  that 
thereby  we  may  be  holy  and  righteous  in  this  world,  and 
prepared  for  the  next. 

April  2Qtk. — I  am  fearful  that  the  resolution  in  the  first 
part  of  my  journal,  concerning  daily  composition,  will  not  be 
fulfilled.  For  I  now  write  nothing  worth  the  trouble  of  tak 
ing  pen  in  hand.  I  feel  almost  disconsolate,  when  I  think  of 
myself — of  hardly  any  use  in  the  world  ;  but  if  it  is  the  will 
of  Providence  that  I  should  have  this  trial,  why  not  be  re 
signed  to  it  ? 

Whilst  Henry  and  E.  are  rapidly  advancing  in  their 
studies,  I  am  making  no  progress,  nor  have  I  advanced  in 
any  degree  to  compare  with  them.  If  I  had  been  in  health, 
and  anywise  diligent,  how  much  might  I  have  learned,  and 
how  many  books  read  in  the  time  that  I  have  been  unwell. 
But  is  not  the  privation  balanced  by  the  many  comforts  and 
blessings  I  have,  and  am  receiving  every  day,  from  an 
almighty  hand  ? 

April  22d. — I  have  seen  a  shocking  sight  to-day.  An  old, 
grey-headed  man,  so  much  intoxicated  that  he  could  hardly 
stand.  It  is  very  distressing  to  witness  that  dreadful  vice 
indulged  to  such  unrestrained  degree  at  any  age,  but  still 
more  so  at  an  advanced  age,  when  all  ought  to  be  preparing 
for  a  future  state,  though  none,  by  any  means,  to  procras 
tinate  with  the  hope  of  being  spared  to  old  age. 

April  24th. — I  have  been  confined  to  the  house  to-day,  on 
account  of  the  rain-storm.  Oh!  that  I  was  able  to  go  to 
school  with  Henry,  and  go  out  in  all  weather.  How  much 
more  happily  would  the  time  wear  away.  My  ill  health  is 
more  depressing  to  me  than  ever.  Now  that  I  am  growing 
older,  the  denial  from  study  seems  harder  than  it  has  ever 
been.  It  is  very  difficult  for  me  to  reconcile  myself  entirely 


36  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

to  this  trial,  which  I  feel  to  be  the  greatest  one  I  have.  Oh, 
that  I  might  have  that  inestimable  quality — patience.  It 
would  be  a  sweet  balm  to  all  my  afflictions. 

April  30th. — I  feel  much  better  in  mind  as  well  as  body, 
when  I  am  employed  in  something  that  will  be  useful.  It 
appears  to  injure  me  more  to  read  or  study,  than  ever.  I 
begin  to  think  that  I  shall  never  be  able  to  fulfil  my  wishes 
in  regard  to  my  studies.  I  cannot  read  in  a  book  that  re 
quires  very  great  attention.  The  words  appear  to  run  toge 
ther  ;  my  head  feels  dizzy,  and  sustains  various  feelings  ;  still 
I  can  take  a  newspaper,  and  read  a  short  time.  But  this 
deprivation,  as  well  as  many  others,  must  be  borne  with  due 
patience. 

May  4th. — Our  dear  brother  George  arrived  this  evening 
iu  very  good  health  and  spirits  I  never  was  so  glad  to  see 
him  in  all  the  time  that  he  has  been  from  home.  We  ought 
to  be  very  grateful  to  our  heavenly  Father,  that  we  are  again 
brought  together  under  circumstances  of  so  much  happiness. 

May  14th. — We  think  of  going  away  the  ensuing  summer, 
if  nothing  happens  to  prevent.  Mother  and  myself  will  go 
to  York ;  Henry,  to  Andover,  with  George,  and  E.  will 
go  to  Boston  to  attend  school.  Everything  is  so  uncertain, 
that  I  do  not  set  my  heart  upon  it ;  for  how  many  things 
may  transpire  which  will  render  it  impossible  for  us  to  go. 

June  10th. — A  sorrowful  day.  'I  have  had  to  be  separated 
from  those  I  so  much  love  all  at  once.  It  is  too  much  to 
bear.  Tears  are  the  only  relief  I  can  resort  to.  The  house 
appears  to  be  bereft  of  all  its  most  lovely  ornaments.  De 
solate,  indeed,  it  seems  ;  but  this  world  has  not  much  else 
beside  trouble  and  separations.  QJi,  may  we  all  emigrate  to 
that  happy  land,  where  we  shall  never  part,  but  live  forever 
in  eternal  happiness. 

June  30th. — We  have  arrived  in  York.  We  ought  to  feel 
grateful  to  the  Almighty  that  we  are  at  length  brought  to  our 
journey's  end  in  safety,  and  in  as  much  health  as  we  now 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVKR,    M.D.  37 

enjoy.  The  salt  water  is  very  near  the  house,  so  that  I  can 
go  fishing  any  time  when  it  is  pleasant.  I  want  to  write 
H.  and  G-.,  but  it  seems  a  tremendous  job. 

July  3d. — Have  been  down  to  the  SHORT  SANDS  alone, 
where  I  had  a  full  view  of  the  mighty  ocean.  There  was 
wind  enough  ;  and  the  large  surges,  one  after  another  rolling 
upon  the  beach,  and  dashing  against  the  rocks,  made  it  truly 
grand  and  inspiring. 

"  In  every  object  here  I  see. 
Something,  0  Lord,  that  leads  to  thee ; 
Firm  as  the  rocks  thy  promise  stands, 
Thy  mercies  countless  as  the  sands, 
Thy  love,  a  sea  immensely  wide, 
Thy  grace,  an  ever-flowing  tide. 
In  every  object  here  I  see, 
Something,  my  heart,  that  points  at  thee  ; 
Hard  as  the  rocks  that  bound  the  strand 
Unfruitful  as  the  barren  sand, 
Deep  and  deceitful  as  the  ocean. 
And,  like  the  tide,  in  constant  motion." 

July  ISth. — Have  had  the  worst  turn  of  breathing  that  I 
ever  had  yet.  I  hardly  know  how  I  lived  through  it.  The 
only  way  I  got  relief  was  by  taking  an  emetic.  I  am  much 
better  now,  and  I  ought  to  be  thankful  that  there  is  anything 
that  will  afford  me  relief.  I  have  some  hope  that  by  abstain 
ing  from  meat  altogether,  and  living  upon  light  food,  I  may 
be  as  well  as  I  sometimes  have  been  at  home.  But  it  is  the 
Lord's  will ;  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good,  and  I  must 
be  resigned  to  the  dispensations  of  his  almighty  hand.  I  have 
thought  whether  the  salt  water-air  may  not  be  too  bracing  for 
me. 

Wednesday  22d. — I  have  received  a  most  beautiful  letter 
from  Mr.  Rowland,  at  Andover  Seminary.  May  the  kind 
interest  he  takes  in  my  salvation  be  not  expressed  in  vain. 
Oh,  Lord,  grant  that  it  may  help  to  the  salvation  of  my  soul. 
May  his  advice  not  be  lost  on  my  stubborn  heart.  May  the 


38  MEMOKIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

arrows  of  conviction  strike  deep.  Oh,  that  I  might  answer 
yes  to  the  inquiries  he  makes  of  me.  Then,  ah  !  then  should 
I  know  what  it  was  to  have  a  new  heart — to  have  this  vile 
one  washed  with  the  purifying  blood  of  the  Redeemer  of 
sinners — to  have  my  sins  forgiven  through  the  merits  of  the 
gracious  Saviour.  Then,  indeed,  should  I  rejoice  in  view  of 
an  entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  Then  should  I  have 
a  "  very  present  help"  in  times  of  trouble  and  oppression. 
When  bowed  down  with  sorrow  and  trials,  should  I  have  a 
never-failing  source  of  resort  for  solace  and  consolation. 
I  have  no  kind  brother,  as  I  had  at  home,  like  Henry,  to  im 
part  all  my  feelings  and  thoughts  to.  Oh,  yes,  I  think  of, 
and  wish  for  him,  very  much  indeed.  I  see  a  great  many 
beautiful  prospects,  and  much  rich  and  delightful  scenery ; 
but  my  descriptive  powers  are  not  good  enough  for  me  to  de 
scribe  it. 

July  23d. — Evening.  I  am  sitting  at  the  little  entry  win 
dow  ;  the  sun  has  just  set,  and  a  most  beautiful  scene  lies 
before  me.  There  is  not  a  breeze  to  ruffle  the  smooth  sur 
face  of  the  water  ;  and  save  the  slow  ticking  of  the  clock,  the 
chirp  and  singing  of  the  robin  and  other  birds,  the  occasional 
brawling  of  a  neighboring  child,  and  the  roaring  of  the 
water  as  it  runs  through  the  mill-dam,  there  is  nothing  to 
disturb  the  stillness  that  pervades  this  beautiful  and  most  de 
lightful  scene. 

July  2bth. — This — I  hardly  know  what  term  to  give  it — is 
getting  towards  a  close.  I  turn  the  last  leaf  this  evening.  It 
is  the  first  journal  that  I  have  ever  written,  and  the  last  I  hope 
that  will  be  written  so  badly.  It  is  a  pretty  good  record  of 
what  the  weather  has  been  since  its  existence,  and  my  ill 
turns,  if  nothing  else.  I  think  I  shall  keep  it  up,  if  it  is 
only  for  the  recreation  it  affords  my  depressed  spirits  after  the 
tediousness  of  the  day  is  past. 

And  now  I  have  closed  my  JOURNAL.     Hurrah  !  Hurrah  ! 

July  21th. — How  different  the  circumstances  under  which 


OF  NATHANIEL   CHEEVER,   M.D.  39 

I  write  now  from  what  my  other  Journal  began  with  at  home. 
My  health  has  been  unstable.  I  have  been  quite  well  at 
times,  and  also  very  sick  indeed  since  I  left  Hallowell. 
Though  my  health  is  not  restored,  numerous,  oh  yes,  very 
many  blessings  have  I  had  to  be  grateful  for.  Every  day 
ought  to  inspire  us'  with  gratitude  to  our  Heavenly  Father, 
that  He  hath  brought  us  so  far  through  life  ;  that  we  have 
raiment  to  wear,  and  food  to  eat.  Our  most  common  bless 
ings  are  our  greatest  ones  ;  and  those  that  we  generally  prizo 
as  the  smallest,  we  should  be  the  most  wretched  without. 

August  21st. — The  bright  hopes  that  I  cherished  a  week 
since  have  been  sadly  disappointed,  even  beyond  what  I  had 
any  idea  of,  for  I  have  been  almost  as  unwell  as  ever. 
Received  a  letter  from  H.  I  fear  that  the  supposition  he 
makes  in  regard  to  my  preparing  for  college  at  Phillip's 
Academy,  and  for  the  ministry  at  the  Institution,  will  never 
be  realized,  unless  my  health  is  restored  very  soon.  There  is 
a  possibility  yet,  but  rather  a  faint  one,  that  a  thing  I  so 
much  desire  may  be.  Oh,  if  I  could  study  and  be  always 
with  a  dear  brother  ! 

August  22d. — I  have  ridden  down  to  the  SHORT  SANDS 
with  my  cousin,  E.  K.,  who  bathed  in  the  ocean,  which  I 
longed  to  do  too,  but  it  would  not  do  for  me.  It  is  a  most 
beautiful  and  romantic  place.  It  brings  to  mind  a  scene  in 
the  "  Antiquary"  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  where  Sir  Arthur 
Wardour  and  his  daughter  were  near  perishing,  in  attempting 
to  go  round  Halket  Head,  by  the  flowing  up  of  the  ocean,  and 
were  relieved  by  the  timely  assistance  of  Lovel  and  the  fisher 
man  Mucklebackit,  through  the  medium  of  Oldbuck  ;  and  not 
the  least  by  any  means,  the  mendicant  Edie  Ochiltree,  who 
was  the  first  to  aid  them  in  their  preservation.  It  is  a  very 
fine  place  to  ride  at  low  tide,  the  sand  being  almost  as 
smooth  as  glass.  Toward  the  end  of  the  beach  there  are 
immense  cliffs  piled  one  over  the  other,  and  sharp  and  largo 
heaps  of  rocks  scattered  about  in  different  places.  My  jaunt 


40  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

has  made  me  feel  much  better,  and  I  shall  ride  again  in  a 
few  days. 

Monday,  31st. — I  had  a  very  bad  night,  but  am  much 
better  than  I  expected  this  morning.  Last  week  I  received  a 
letter  from  George,  which  is  good  enough  to  be  printed. 
What  affectionate  interest  he  shows  towards  me  !  How  I 
long  to  see  him  and  H.  Oh  !  I  will  try  and  have  reli 
gion — may  God  help  me  to  obtain  it.  Oh  !  most  blessed 
consolation  that  thou  art  !  If  I  have  thee,  I  shall  be  prepared 
for  whatever  can  befall  me  in  this  world,  resigned  to  trial 
and  suffering,  and  ready  to  quit  it  whenever  the  Almighty 
shall  please  to  call  me  away.  No  ;  it  must  not  be  put  off 
any  longer  ;  now  is  the  only  time  which  I  can  strictly 
call  my  own.  Oh  !  may  my  heart  be  purged  from  all  sin,  and 
I  be  led  to  repentance  and  faith  in  Christ,  who  taketh  away 
the  sin  of  the  world,  on  whom  we  can  lean  and  safely  trust. 

September  7th. — I  was  not  able  to  go  to  meeting  yesterday, 
but  hope  I  tried  to  spend  the  Sabbath  well  at  home.  QhJ 
what  blessed  hopes  the  Bible  holds  out  to  those  that  give 
themselves  up  to  God,  and  walk  in  the  way  of  everlasting  life 
May  I  read  that  blessed  book  with  a  fervent  desire  to  obtain 
good! 

Wednesday,  I6th. — Yesterday  I  went  down  to  the  SANDS 
with  uncle' s  gun,  and  shot  four  Sandy-birds,  which  are  very 
fat.  I  shonld  love  to  partake  of  my  own  game,  but  it  would 
interfere  with  my  resolution  of  abstinence  from  animal  food  ; 
so  I  shall  not  break  it.  I  have  felt  a  great  deal  better  since 
I  have  been  a  gunning.  I  was  on  a  place  yesterday  where  I 
had  not  been  before,  Fort  Hill  so  called.  These  are  the 
remains  of  two  old  forts  which  were  built  in  the  Revolution 
ary  war.  They  are  on  a  high  eminence,  and  command  the 
harbor  very  well.  The  proud  waves  were  dashing  themselves 
against  the  rugged  cliffs  and  rocks,  and  throwing  their  spray 
high  up  in  the  air  ;  I  think  it  was  beyond  all  that  I  have  seen 
.  of  the  sea.  No  soul  was  with  me,  and  I  was  left  alone  to 


OF  NATHANIEL   CHEEVEB,    M.D.  41 

wonder  at  the  works  of  the  Almighty  Creator.  My  descrip 
tions  are  totally  inadequate  to  such  scenes,  yet  my  admira 
tion  of  them  is  silent,  sincere,  and  heartfelt.  Not  by  any 
means  am  I  blind  to  the  wonders  which  are  everywhere  dis 
played  in  this  charming  place. 

Say  what  they  will  about  Nahant,  and  other  resorts  for  the 
fashionables  and  valetudinarians,  Old  York  yields  to  none  of 
them  ;  and  if  it  were  in  the  vicinity  of  some  large  and  popu 
lous  city,  there  is  no  doubt  it  would  be  celebrated.  I  have 
seen  so  many  sublime  and  pleasant  scenes  since  I  have  been 
here,  that  in  what  few  I  have  dabbled  at,  there  is  a  continued 
repetition  of  the  words  delightful,  beautiful,  and  grand. 

September  30th. — Next  week  is  the  time  appointed  for  our 
departure  from  this  pleasant  spot,  where  I  have  experienced 
some  sorrow,  but  more  happiness,  and  which  I  shall  regret 
to  leave,  although  I  have  a  pleasant  home  in  anticipation.  As 
long  as  my  memory  lasts,  I  think  I  shall  never  forget  my 
visit  to  York.  Now  have  I  seen  a  good  many  of  the 
places  which  I  have  so  many  times  heard  my  dear  mother 
give  account  of.  Although  I  have  been  unwell  a  good  part 
of  the  time,  I  have  had  a  very  pleasant  summer,  and  many 
blessings  to  acknowledge  from  an  Almighty  hand.  When  I 
anticipate  the  pleasure  I  shall  experience  in  again  meeting 
Gr.  and  H.,  the  foretaste  is  almost  too  much  for  me.  Oh 
how  glad  I  shall  be  to  see  two  brothers  loved  so  dearly  as 
they  are  by  me. 

Hallowell)  December  25th,  1849. — It  is  a  long  time  since  I 
have  written  in  my  journal,  and  many  things  have  occurred 
which  are  perhaps  worthy  of  note.  Nevertheless,  I  shall  not 
enter  into  a  long  detail  of  them,  but  only  state  that  we  are 
once  more  at  home,  and  have  been  for  a  period  of  more  than 
two  months,  in  the  enjoyment  of  those  blessings  which  God 
has  always  been  liberal  in  giving.  Henry  is  at  home, 
and  I  enjoy  his  company  very  much.  Gr.  has  been,  but 
has  now  departed.  E.  of  course  is  not  at  tome,  and 


42  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

will  not  be  until  spring.  I  think  my  general  health  is  much 
improved,  although  I  am  rather  unwell  at  present.  On 
Sabbath  night  H.  and  myself  made  certain  solemn  resolu 
tions,  which  I  most  earnestly  desire  we  may  be  enabled  to 
perform  and  keep.  "  Watch  and  pray,  lest  ye  enter  into 
temptation,"  is  the  command  of  our  Divine  Lord  and  Master. 
May  we  indeed  obey  that  command,  and  be  strong  in  our 
endeavors  to  foil  the  evil  tempter  in  all  his  insinuations  to 
make  us  backslide,  and  may  we  gain  a  glorious  victory  over 
sin  and  temptation. 

January  1st,  1830. — The  old  year  has  passed  away,  and 
the  new  one  has  commenced,  and  I  fear  I  am  yet  far  from 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  but  may  I  advance  still  nearer  to  the 
haven  of  rest,  and  may  not  another  year  pass  without  my 
having  found  peace  in  believing,  and  devoted  myself  unre 
servedly  to  God. 

Sabbath  day^  3d. — I  this  day  resolve  trusting  in  God  for 
strength  to  perform  it,  to  forsake  my  sins,  take  up  the  cross, 
and  follow  Christ.  Oh  !  I  am  a  poor,  miserable  sinner, 
unworthy  of  the  least  of  Grod's  mercies.  Of  myself  I  can  do 
nothing.  Oh  !  may  I  apply  to  that  living  fountain  of  all  holi 
ness,  and  obtain  a  draught  of  living  water  which  shall  spring 
up  unto  life  everlasting'! 

Monday,  January  llth. — Since  writing  last,  a  thing  has 
occurred  for  which  we  ought  to  manifest  so  much  gratitude, 
that  it  deserves  to  be  mentioned  here.  Last  Thursday,  H. 
and  myself  were  skating  upon  the  river,  and  the  former  not 
skating  very  fast,  took  hold  of  a  rope  fastened  from  the  mast 
of  a  vessel  to  a  stake  in  the  ice,  and  the  rope  being  slack  he 
fell  immediately  down,  almost  the  whole  weight  of  his  body 
coming  upon  his  head  ;  consequently  he  was  injured  very 
much.  Our  gratitude  ought  to  be  great  that  he  was  not 
killed  instantly.  This  ought  to  admonish  us  how  uncertain 
life  is,  and  upon  how  brittle  a  thread  our  existence  depends. 
Moreover,  seeing  this  instance  of  the  goodness  of  God  in  pro- 


OF   NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,   M.D.  43 

serving  him,  we  ought  to  rely  more  upon  his  care.  May  it. 
serve  to  enforce  upon  us  all  the  words  of  our  Lord  that  "  wo 
know  not  the  day  or  the  hour  when  the  Son  of  Man 
cometh !" 

January  29th,  Thursday. — Not  so  well  in  body  as  I  have 
been  for  some  time.  I  hope  I  can  say  that  I  am  submissive 
to  the  will  of  the  Lord  respecting  me.  Oh  !  may  I  be  deeply 
humbled  in  view  of  my  manifold  transgressions.  How  merci 
ful  is  God  unto  me  !  I  can  say  with  David,  "  weeping 
endureth  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in  the  morning."  So 
is  it  with  me  ;  in  the  night  when  my  disease  is  raging  with 
violence,  I  am  almost  ready  to  give  up  all  hope,  but  in  the  morn 
ing  hope  again  revives,  equally  as  I  am  strengthened  in  body. 

February  28th,  1830. — I  am  now  reading  a  book  which 
Mr.  S.  lent  me,  entitled  "  Letters  to  an  Anxious  Inquirer." 
I  like  them  very  much  ;  exactly  applicable  to  me.  if  any 
thing,  I  am  more  backward  in  prayer  than  when  I  last  wrote. 
Cannot  find  language  to  clothe  my  ideas  in,  if  I  have  any. 
What  is  this  owing  to  ?  It  is  owing  to  the  wickedness  of  my 
own  heart.  And  how  can  it  be  corrected  1  By  steady  reso 
lution  and  perseverance.  But  I  do  resolve  and  re-resolve 
again,  and  then  relapse  into  the  old  course  and  continue 
there,  until  I  make  another  vain  resolution. 

March  29th,  1830. — This  is  my  birthday  (fourteen  years 
old),  and  I  am  unhappily  suffering  under  a  distressing  attack 
of  my  grievous  complaint.  In  taking  a  retrospect  of  the  last 
year,  I  see  that  I  have  been  in  the  steady  enjoyment  of  num 
berless  blessings  from  my  Heavenly  Father.  I  also  see, 
which  is  certainly  humiliating,  how  little  has  been  evinced  of 
gratitude  by  me  ;  how  entirely  undeserving  I  am  of  the  very 
least  of  all ;  that  it  would  be  just  if  all  were  taken  from  me 
by  the  same  hand  which  has  so  bountifully  supplied  me.  But 
unutterable  thanks  be  to  Him,  who  is  "  merciful  to  the  evil 
and  unthankful,"  that  he  has  thus  kindly  brought  me  through 
all  the  dangers  and  vicissitudes  which  I  have  experienced,  to 


44  MEMORIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

the  light  o.  another  of  my  natal  days.  In  what  a  loud  and 
clear  voice  does  it  call  for  the  surrender  and  leading  captive 
of  all  my  powers  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  there  to  resign  the 
entire  disposal  of  them  and  myself  to  Him  who  alone  can  save 
us.  Qh  that  glorious  era  !  when  will  it  come  !  when  will  it 
be  that  I  shall  become  a  humble  follower  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ  ?  Then,  and  not  till  then,  I  am  firmly 
persuaded,  shall  I  be  happy. 

April  27th. — Worldly  and  backsliding  all  the  time.  Cold, 
lifeless,  and  inanimate,  as  regards  all  spiritual  things,  but  full 
of  life  and  vigor  about  everything  else  these  few  weeks  of 
better  health. 

June  1th. — Not  well  in  health  at  present,  but  have  been 
finely.  I  hope  that  my  spiritual  health  is  rather  better. 
Since  I  wrote  last,  we  have  had  the  great  happiness  of  wel 
coming  GL  and  E.  again  to  our  pleasant  home,,  both  in  fine 
health  and  spirits. 

To  the  overflowing  cup  of  mercies  that  have  rained  upon 
us  from  our  Heavenly  Father — like  manna  upon  the  Israel 
ites — we  hope  has  been  added  that  of  having  our  dear  G. 
gathered  into  the  fold  of  Christ.  This  is  worth  more  than  all 
our  earthly  blessings.  If  there  is  any  comfort  in  affliction, 
besides  that  which  comes  directly  from  the  true  and  never- 
failing  source  of  consolation,  it  is  that  of  having  our  near  and 
dear  relatives  able  to  be  the  almoners  of  those  promises  which 
are  sure  and  abiding,  and  of  those  consolations  which  are 
unspeakable. 

October  18th. — I  have  for  two  Sabbaths  past  enjoyed  the 
great  happiness  of  hearing  my  dear  brother's  voice  exerted  in 
pleading  with  the  people  of  God  for  renewed  zeal  and  activity 
in  the  cause  of  Christ.  His  text  was  from  1  Peter  i.  xv. — 
"  But  as  he  who  hath  called  you  is  holy,  so  be  ye  holy  in  all 
manner  of  conversation."  He  preached  three  sermons  from 
this  text,  and  three  noble  ones  they  were. 

November  3d,  1830. — I  hope  I  can  say  that  my  spiritual 


OF  NATHANIEL   CHEEVEK,   M.D.  45 

health  is  better  than  it  has  been  for  some  time  past.  I  hope 
also  that  I  am  in  some  measure  at  least  resigned  to  the  will 
of  the  Lord  concerning  me.  Oh  that  he-  would  give  me  entire, 
unreserved,  and  unconditional  resignation  to  his  Divine  plea 
sure,  and  that  I  might  have  such  a  perfect  acquiescence  as 
that  I  should  delight  in  it;  yea,  should  glory  in  it,  should 
verily  glory  in  the  endurance  and  performance  of  it,  though 
it  should  cost  me  great  bodily  suffering,  and  should  grievously 
afflict  and  distress  me.  I  think  also  that  I  can  say  with  fear 
and  trembling,  that  I  do  in  some  measure  try  to  imitate  that 
perfect  pattern  which  Christ  has  left  as  an  example  for  us  to 
follow,  and  that  I  do  try  to  live  holy,  godly,  and  righteously, 
in  this  present  evil  world.  I  try  to,  and  think  I  do  rely  upon 
the  merits  and  righteousness  of  Christ  for  acceptance  with 
God.  I  hope  that  his  love  in  a  degree  constrains  me.  But 
oh,  my  soul,  thou  knowest  that  it  does  not  as  it 'ought. 
Think,  oh  think,  of  the  amazing  love  he  has  shown  unto  thee 
in  redeeming  thee  from  everlasting  destruction,  in  saving  thy 
soul  from  death,  thine  eyes  from  tears,  and  thy  feet  from  fall 
ing,  and  in  suffering  and  dying  for  thee,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross — and  then  think  of  thine  own  shameless  deficiency. 

So  far  as  can  be  gathered  from  the  Journal,  and 
from  the  recollections  of  friends,  the  early  part  of  this 
month  of  November,  1830,  seems  to  have  been  the 
period  when  the  subject  of  these  experiences,  by  the 
regenerating  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  passed  from 
death  unto  life. 

It  is  on  the  fifteenth  of  this  month  that  we  find 
written  the  following  Covenant  of  self-dedication  and 
prayer,  partly  in  the  words  of  that  found  in  Dod- 
dridge's  Rise  and  Progress  in  Religion,  which  he  had 
been  very  prayerfully  and  earnestly  perusing.  It 


46  MEMOEIALS   OP  THE  LIFE 

forms  the  last  record  in   the  second  volume  of  his 
Early  Journal. 

From  this  time  it  is  instructive  to  notice  how,  in 
accordance  with  the  experience  of  other  favored 
Christians,  after  a  similar  act  of  self-consecration,  the 
peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding  began 
to  keep  his  heart  and  mind  in  Christ  Jesus. 

Hallowell,  Nov.  Ibth,  1830. — Eternal  and  ever  blessed  God, 
I  desire  to  present  myself  before  thee  with  the  deepest  humilia 
tion  and  self-abasement  of  soul,  sensible  how  unworthy  such 
a  sinful  worm  is  to  appear  before  the  holy  Majesty  of  heaven — 
the  King  of  kings  and  the  Lord  of  lords,  and  especially  on 
such  an  occasion  as  this,  even  to  enter  into  a  covenant 
transaction  with  thee.  But  the  scheme  is  thine  own.  Thine 
infinite  condescension  has  offered  it  by  thy  dear  Son  ;  and  I 
hope  thy  grace  has  inclined  me  to  accept  of  it.  I  come, 
therefore,  acknowledging  myself  to  have  been  a  great  offender, 
smiting  on  my  breast,  and  saying,  with  the  humble  publican, 
"  God  be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner  !"  I  come,  invited  by  thy 
Son,  and  wholly  trusting  in  his  perfect  righteousness,  entreat 
ing.,  that  for  his  sake,  thou  wilt  be  merciful  to  my  unright 
eousness,  and  wilt  remember  my  iniquity  no  more.  0  Lord 
I  beseech  thee  that  thou  wilt  receive  me  through  thy  dear 
Son.  Receive  me  into  thy  covenant  of  promise.  May  I  no 
more  be  a  stranger  from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel ;  but, 
oh  !  may  I  become  a  fellow-citizen  with  the  saints,  and  of  the 
household  of  God. 

This  day,  I,  Nathaniel  Cheever,  do,  with  the  utmost  so 
lemnity,  surrender  myself  to  thee.  I  give  myself  up  to  thee. 
I  renounce  all  former  lords  that  have  had  dominion  over  me  ; 
and  I  consecrate  to  thee  all  that  I  am,  and  all  that  I  have. 
I  desire  to  say  unto  thee,  Here,  Lord,  I  give  myself  away, 
do  with  me  as  it  seemeth  unto  thee  good.  And  I  hope — I  de- 


M.D.  47 

sire,  that  the  health  which  thou  givest  unto  me,  my  time  and 
my  influence  over  others,  the  members  of  my  body,  the  facul 
ties  of  my  mind,  I  desire  to  present  them  before  thee  this 
day,  as  a  living  sacrifice,  holy  and  acceptable  unto  God,  as 
my  most  reasonable  service.  In  thy  service  I  desire  to  spend 
the  remainder  of  my  time  on  earth,  and  pray  that  thou 
wouldst  enable  me  to  do  all  things  to  thy  glory. 

And,  0  blessed  God,  do  thou  give  me  strength  to  persevere 
in  this  course  to  the  very  end  of  my  life.  Oh,  strengthen  me 
with  might,  by  thy  Spirit,  in  the  inner  man.  Nor  do  I  only 
consecrate  to  thee  all  that  I  am  and  have  ;  but  I  also  most 
humbly  resign  and  submit  myself,  and  everything  relating  to 
me,  and  set  every  enjoyment  and  interest  before  thee,  to  be 
disposed  of  in  such  a  manner  as  thou  shalt,  in  thine  infinite 
wisdom,  deem  most  subservient  to  the  interests  of  thy_glory. 
To  thee  I  leave  the  management  of  all  events  ;  and  hope 
to  say,  without  reserve,  "  Not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done," 
rejoicing  with  a  loyal  heart  in  thine  unlimited  government,  as 
what  ought  to  be  the  delight  of  every  rational  being.  Choose 
me,  I  beseech  thee,  as  an  instrument  of  thy  glory,  and  in  the 
advancement  of  thy  kingdom.  Number  me  among  thy  pecu 
liar  people.  Let  me  be  washed  in  the  blood  of  thy  Son. 
Oh  !  may  I  be  clothed  in  the  robe  of  his  righteousness.  Honor 
me  so  far  as  that  by  doing  or  suffering  what  thou  shalt  appoint, 
I  may  bring  some  revenue  of  praise  unto  thee,  and  of  benefit 
to  the  world  in  which  I  dwell. 

Destroy,  I  beseech  thee,  more  and  more  the  power  of  sin 
in  my  heart.  Oh,  may  I  wage  a  continual  warfare  against  it. 
May  I  hate  it  with  a  perfect  hatred,  not  because  it  brings 
ruin  upon  my  own  soul,  but  because  thou,  O  God,  canst  not 
look  upon  it  without  the  utmost  abhorrence,  and  because  it  is 
utterly  inconsistent  with  thine  infinite  perfections.  Trans 
form  me  more  into  thine  own  image  ;  and  may  my  life  be  a 
mirror  of  the  life  which  was  in  Christ,  whom,  henceforward, 
I  would  acknowledge  as  my  teacher  and  sacrifice,  my  inter- 


4:8  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LITE 

cessor    and    Lord.      Communicate    unto   me    the  purifying, 
cheering,  and  comforting  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit.     And, 

0  Lord,  may  I  continually  live   in  the   light  of  thy  gracious 
countenance,  which  shall  put  joy  and  gladness  into  my  soul. 
And   in  the  hour  of  sickness  and  distress,  and  in  the  trying 
hour  of  death,  Oh  !  remember  this  thy  covenant,  well  ordered 
in  all  things  and  sure,  as  my  consolation  and  my  hope  when 
every  other  hope  is  perishing. 

Oh,  blessed  Redeemer,  put  thine  everlasting  arm  under 
neath  me  ;  and  in  the  dark  valley  and  shadow  of  death,  may 

1  fear  no  evil,  because  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  shall  com 
fort  me.     And  wilt  thou  rob  him  of  his  sting,  and  may  my 
triumphant  song  be,  "  0  death,  where  is  thy  sting!  O  grave, 
where  is  thy  victory  !"     Amen. 

Somewhat  more  than  a  month  after  the  date  of  this 
paper,  lie  was  publicly  united  to  the  Old  South  Con 
gregational  Church,  Hallowell,  011  the  first  day  of  Ja- 
uary,  1831,  with  nine  others,  he  being  then  in  his 
fifteenth  year.  It  was  a  season  of  unusual  interest. 
A  written  account  of  his  religious  experience  being 
requested  by  his  pastor,  the  Rev.  George  Shepard, 
he  prepared  the  following  narrative  for  presentation 
to  the  church  : 

NARRATIVE    OF    RELIGIOUS    EXPERIENCE. 

I  have  nothing  very  remarkable  to  relate  concerning  the 
Lord's  dealings  with  me,  though  I  will  try  to  trace  them  as 
ihey  are  in  as  plain  and  faithful  a  manner  as  I  can.  My 
(mind  was  considerably  excited  upon  the  subject  of  religion 
during  the  last  revival,  when  the  Rev.  Mr.  Danforth  was 
here,  although  I  had  no  settled  conviction  of  sin,  and  think 
the  impressions  I  then  received  were  entirely  effaced. 

Since  then,  I  think  my  attention  was  first  called  to  the 
subject  about  two  years  ago,  by  the  conversation  of  Mr. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEKVKR,    M.D.  49 

Charles  Weld,  who,  at  that  time,  resided  at  our  house.  I 
then  began  seriously  to  consider  upon  it,  though  I  was  not, 
nor  have  I  ever  been,  so  exceedingly  anxious  as  many  who 
are  suddenly  convinced  of  their  lost  and  ruined  state,  as 
abiding  under  the  righteous  penalty  of  God's  holy  law.  In 
this  state  I  continued,  not  deeply  anxious,  but  serious,  and 
very  much  interested  for  a  long  time,  perhaps  a  year  or  more, 
reading  the  Bible  with  attention,  and  taking  considerable  en 
joyment  in  the  duties  of  religion. 

I  have  had  many  temptations,  and  still  continue  to  have 
them.  About  the  end  of  the  period  I  mentioned,  I  was 
tempted  with  unbelief  of  the  Bible  for  some  time,  which,  of 
course,  destroyed  all  my  enjoyments;  but  the  Lord  then,  and 
many  times  since,  has  graciously  delivered  me  out  of  all  my 
troubles.  And  I  trust  that  "  he  will  not  permit  me  to  be 
tempted  above  that  I  am  able,  but  will  with  all  my  tempta 
tions  also  make  a  way  to  escape,  that  I  may  be  able  to  bear 
it." 

I  cannot  tell  the  time  when  I  first  experienced  the  renew 
ing  influences  of  divine  grace,  but  think  there  has  been  a 
spark  implanted  in  my  heart  for  a  long  time.  Oh,  may  it 
never  cease  to  shine  ;  but  may  it  increase  in  vividness  and 
lustre,  until  it  shall  be  lost  in  that  intense  blaze  of  glory 
which  shall  forever  illuminate  the  heavenly  kingdom,  into 
which  we  hope  to  "  have  an  entrance  administered." 

I  have  never  inquired  so  deeply  into  my  feelings,  as  I  have 
for  the  past  two  months,  and,  consequently,  have  not  known 
so  well  what  they  have  been  ;  but  I  think  I  can  say  that  I 
have  enjoyed  the  consolations  of  religion  for  many  months 
past.  I  never  before  examined  to  see  whether  I  had  a  hope 
in  Christ,  but  have  gone  on  reading  the  Bible  with  great  plea 
sure,  receiving  much  enjoyment  from  religion,  and  in  the 
perusal  of  religious  books,  and  also  feeling  a  deep  interest  in 
the  advancement  of  Christ's  kingdom,  and  anxiety  for  souls. 
These  have  been,  I  think,  my  feelings  for  nearly  a  year  past, 
3 


50  MEMORIALS    OF   TIIE   LIFE 

though  I  never  had  such  an  assurance  of  my  own  salvation, 
as  the  Lord,  in  his  infinite  mercy,  has  been  pleased  to  grant 
unto  me  within  a  month  or  two. 

Still,  I  would  have  none  imagine  that  I  have  no  doubts — for 
many  1  do  have ;  yet  I  hope  I  can  trust  entirely  in  the  merits 
of  Christ,  and  on  his  righteousness  alone.  Merit  of  my  own 
I  feel  that  I  have  none.  "  All  my  righteousness  is  as  filthy 
rags;  1  am  altogether  an  unclean  thing." 

In  regard  to  confessing  Christ  before  men,  I  have  felt  it  to 
be  both  a  duty  and  privilege,  though  more  a  privilege,  but 
one  that  I  am  entirely  unworthy  of.  I  have  hesitated  much 
concerning  the  performance  of  this  duty  ;  but  the  words  of 
our  Saviour,  "  He  that  loveth  me,  keepeth  my  command 
ments,"  have  seemed  to  spur  me  on  to  obedience  in  this  re 
spect  particularly,  though  I  hope  they  would  in  every  other. 
I  feel  that  if  I  love  him  (and  I  trust  I  do),  that  I  shall  keep 
this  as  well  as  the  rest  of  his  commandments.  I  do  not  have 
quite  so  clear  views  of  the  character  of  God,  as  I  wish  to  ; 
though  I  hope  I  love  him  sincerely,  yet  I  cannot,  as  it  were, 
see  him  in  my  mind's  eye  so  clearly  as  I  can  Christ.  But  I 
think  I  truly  desire  to  do  and  suffer  his  will,  and  promote  his 
glory  above  all  things. 

I  think  I  have  had  deeper  convictions  of  sin  since  I  have 
had  reason  to  hope,  than  I  ever  had  before ;  and  I  hope  I 
have  in  truth  repented  of,  and  forsaken  them  all.  I  think  I 
have  been  brought  to  see  and  to  feel  deeply,  the  utter  depra 
vity  and  sinfulness  of  the  human  heart,  and  to  experience 
that  of  my  own  ;  but  I  hope  I  have  applied  to  Christ,  "  whose 
blood  cleanseth  from  all  unrighteousness,"  and  obtained  par 
don  and  remission  of  sins.  This  it  does  appear  to  me  I 
know,  if  I  know  anything  at  all  of  my  own  heart,  that  I  do 
sincerely  and  supremely  love  Christ ;  and  I  am  humbly  per 
suaded,  in  my  present  mind,  "  that  neither  death,  nor  life, 
nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present, 
nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  crea- 


OF   NATH.iNIEL   OHEEVEE,    M.D.  51 

ture,  shall  be  able  to  separate  me  from  the  love  of  God  which 
is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."  I  feel  that  in  my  own  strength 
I  can  do  nothing  ;  but  that  in  the  strength  of  Christ,  I  shall 
come  off  conqueror,  and  more  than  conqueror. 

Finally,  dear  brethren,  pray  for  me,  "  that  I  may  be 
strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  of  his  might ;  that  he 
may  perfect  what  is  lacking  in  my  faith  ;"  that  "  I  may  be 
rooted  and  grounded  in  Christ  ;"  built  up  in  him — may  grow 
in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  and  love  of  my  Saviour  ;  and 
most  of  all,  may  at  last  be  "  presented  faultless  before  his 
throne,  with  exceeding  great  joy." 

NATHANIEL  CHEEVER. 

Hallowell,  December,  1830. 


''  Ah,  how  long  shall  I  delight 

In  the  memory  of  that  day, 
When  the  shades  of  mental  night 

Sudden  passed  away ! 
Long  around  my  darkened  view 

Had  those  lingering  shadows  twined  ; 
Till  the  gospel  breaking  through, 

Chased  them  from  my  mind. 
There  was  light  in  everything, 

Everything  was  bathed  in  bliss ; 
Trees  did  wave,  and  birds  did  sing, 

Full  of  happiness. 
Beauty  in  the  woods  shone  forth, 

Beauty  did  the  flowers  display, 
And  my  glorious  Maker's  worth 

Beamed  with  matchless  ray." 


52  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 


CHAPTEK    III. 

LETTERS   AND   MEMORIALS    OF   YOUTH. 

We  look  before  and  after, 

And  pine  for  what  is  not ; 
Our  sincerest  laughter 

With  some  pain  is  fraught ; 

Our  sweetest  songs  are  those  that  tell  of  saddest  thought. 

SHELLEY. 

THE  materials  for  biography  in  the  year  1831, 
are  scanty,  by  reason  of  almost  all  the  private  memo 
rials  of  this  period — one  of  the  most  important  and 
interesting  of  his  whole  religious  life — having  been 
unwisely  destroyed,  soon  after  reading  an  article  by 
Mr.  Dana  in  The  Spirit  of  the  Pilgrims,  on  the  Mo 
rality  of  Diaries.  Fearing,  from  some  considerations 
therein  presented,  that  he  had  been  actuated  by 
wrong  motives  in  recording  his  peculiar  religious  ex 
periences,  in  an  unadvised  hour  he  committed  them 
to  the  flames.  It  was  immediately,  and  ever  after,  a 
cause  of  deep  regret. 

He  pined  for  what  was  not 

Long  and  bitter  was  his  sorrow  for  having  destroyed 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEYER,    M.D.  53 

those  memorials  of  the  Lord's  goodness,  and  of  his 
soul's  progress  in  the  divine  life.  He  felt  that  he  had 
erred  and  done  wrong,  and  that  he  was  led  by  the 
tempter  rather  than  by  the  Spirit,  in  annihilating 
those  records  of  the  Lord's  dealings  writh  his  soul. 
The  act  which  he  lamented  so  much,  was  done  at 
Newburyport,  while  he  was  residing  there  for  the 
summer  with  his  eldest  brother,  who  had  charge  of  a 
pulpit  in  that  town. 

The  exercises  recorded  and  destroyed,  were  very 
peculiar ;  but  his  grief  in  the  loss  of  them,  and  the 
influence  upon  his  future  character  and  life,  gave 
them  their  chief  importance.  The  unhappiness  it 
caused  him,  none  could  tell.  The  journal  was  not 
resumed  again  until  the  winter  of  1831-32,  when  he 
was  at  home  once  more  under  the  maternal  roof. 

A  few  letters  are  preserved,  which  were  wrritten  in 
this  interval.  The  one  that  follows  was  to  his  eldest 
brother,  George,  in  the  summer  of  1830,  before  he 
made  a  public  profession  of  religion.  The  line  of 
reading  which  he  pursued,  especially  Johnson's  Lives 
of  the  Poets,  which  he  read,  marked,  and  inwardly 
digested,  contributed  much  to  form  his  style  of  com 
position  ;  and  this  may  account  for  a  maturity  in  his 
language  otherwise  unnatural  to  his  age  and  acquire 
ments. 

Hallowell,  August  3,   1830. 

MY  DEARLY  BELOVED  BROTHER  : 

Having  been  for  a  long  time  deprived  of  the  delightful 
pleasure  of  writing  you,  the  cause  which  has  hitherto  pre 
vented  being  now  removed,  I  have  determined  no  longer  to 


54  MEMOKIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

be  denied,  but  to  enjoy  that  pleasure  in  as  full  and  free  a 
manner  as  possible.  You  must  know  that  there  are  few  other 
causes  besides  ill  health,  which  are  sufficiently  weighty  to 
prevent  me  from  being  myself  the  almoner  of  affections 
which  hardly  know  bounds.  I  enjoyed  an  interval  of  com 
parative  health  for  some  time  after  you  left  us.  It  seems 
almost  impossible  that  one  third  of  the  time  of  your  absence 
has  already  expired.  It  is  indeed  the  case,  that  we  scarcely 
cease  lamenting  your  departure,  before  all  our  sorrow  is  ab 
sorbed  by  the  flood  of  joyful  emotions  your  anticipated  return 
occasions. 

When  we  consider  that  every  moment  which  passes  brings 
us  nearer  to  the  termination  of  our  probation  on  earth,  and 
to  the  beginning  of  an  eternal  existence,  how  ought  it  to  stir 
us  up  to  increased  endeavors,  and  strong  exertions,  to  secure 
that  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  from  us,  and  to  pre 
pare  us  "  to  inherit  that  rest  which  remaineth  for  the  people 
of  God."  We  are  continually  treading  upon  the  threshold 
of  eternity.  "  Our  lives  are  ever  on  the  wing,  and  death  is 
ever  nigh."  Oh,  that  I  sufficiently  regarded  the  great  ob 
jects  of  our  existence,  and  that  my  life  was  an  index  of  my 
feelings.  But  it  is  not,  and  I  grieve  to  say  it.  I  do  not  see 
that  my  feelings  are  very  different  from  what  they  were  when 
you  were  at  home.  I  have  the  same  difficulty  in  praying 
that  I  then  had.  I  do  indeed  pray  ;  but  I  can  hardly  con 
ceive  how  prayers,  inbred  with  so  little  faith  and  love,  can 
bring  a  blessing.  I  have  got  as  far  in  "  Baxter's  Saint's 
Rest,"  as  "  Our  Title  to  It,"  and  am  very  much  pleased 
with  it.  He  certainly  describes  all  he  attempts  in  a  very 
faithful  and  plain,  solemn  manner.  How  inexpressibly — how 
inconceivably  would  the  pleasure  with  which  I  now  read  it, 
be  enhanced,  if  I  had  good  evidence  that  I  should  inherit 
that  blessed  rest — that  eternal  rest,  which,  at  the  end  of  mil 
lions  of  ages,  will  be  as  new  and  blissful  as  at  the  time  we 
enter  upon  it.  Oh  !  that  this  book  might  be  blessed  for 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVER,    M.D.  55 

good  to  my  soul,  and  lead   me  to    seek    "  that   inheritanoe 
which  is  incorruptible,  undefilcd,  and  fadeth  not  away." 

August  6th. — Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  been  attacked 
with  a  paroxysm  of  my  disorder,  but  through  the  blessing  and 
mercy  of  God,  I  am  now  getting  over  it.  Surely  the  words 
of  David  apply  to  me,  "  Weeping  endureth  for  a  night, 
but  joy  cometh  in  the  morning."  How  much  more  doth  my 
unwearied  Benefactor  do  for  me  than  I  deserve  !  His  mer 
cies  are,  indeed,  u  new  every  morning,  and  fresh  every 
evening."  As  sure  as  each  day  that  returns,  so  sure  are 
blessings  innumerable  and  unmeasured,  scattered  around 
me.  God  is  also  my  deliverer  in  the  multifarious  dangers 
which  continually  compass  me  about.  "  Thou,  0  Lord,  art 
a  shield  for  me  ;  my  glory,  and  the  lifter  up  of  my  head."  What 
shall  I  render  unto  thee,  0  Lord,  for  all  thy  benefits  towards 
me  ?  Everything  of  my  own  that  I  could  offer,  would  not  equal 
a  grain  of  sand  in  the  balance.  "  All  my  righteousness  is  as 
filthy  rags."  No  unworthiness  of  mine  would  merit  such 
unbounded  kindness.  But  there  is  one  whose  "  righteous 
ness  is  like  the  great  mountains."  His  worthiness  is  equal  to 
my  unworthiness.  "  Thou,  O  Christ,  art  all  I  want :  More 
than  all  in  thee  I  find." 

Although  I  am  sometimes  blessed  with  intervals  of  spiri 
tual  enjoyment,  yet  Satan  and  my  own  evil  heart  are  con 
tinually  plotting  the  destruction  of  my  comfort.  Neverthe 
less,  God  is  able  to  succor  me  in  every  temptation.  "  He 
shall  deliver  thee  in  six  troubles,  yea,  in  seven  there  shall  no 
evil  touch  thee." 

I  wish  I  could  have  some  regular  system  of  study  ;  but  I 
do  not  know  that  I  shall  be  able  to,  until  my  health  is  better. 
I  shall  study  and  read  all  I  can  when  I  am  able.  I  cannot 
help  regretting  how  little  I  have  accomplished  this  summer, 
and  how  little  to  advantage  improved  my  time.  It  seems  as 
though  every  day  of  my  life  went  swifter  than  the  preceding. 
"  Our  days  are  swifter  than  a  weaver's  shuttle  ;  they  pass 


56  MEMORIALS   OF   THE    LIFE 

as  the  eagle  that  hasteth  to  her  prey."  This  volumin 
ous  document  must  answer  for  a  long  time,  perhaps  until  you 
have  come  home,  and  gone  away  again  ;  but  whether  I  ex 
press  myself  or  am  silent,  in  every  situation  and  circumstance 
you  must  ever  believe  me  your  loving  brother, 

NATHANIEL. 

Hallowett,  October  31st ,  1830. 

MY  DEAR  BROTHER  HENRY. — I  should  sincerely  ask  your 
forgiveness  for  not  writing  oftener,  if  it  were  not  that  the 
main  excuse  is  too  well  known  to  need  repeating.  I  have 
been  thinking  as  the  weather  is  too  unpleasant  for  me  to  be 
out,  whether  it  would  not  be  right  for  me  to  take  advantage 
of  it ;  and  have  concluded,  that  considering  all  circumstances, 
it  is,  provided  I  make  the  letter  in  some  measure  correspond 
with  the  sacredness  of  the  holy  day  upon  which  it  is  written. 
Consequently,  I  shall  try  and  give  you  some  brotherly  advice, 
which  I  hope  will  be  acceptable  unto  you.  I  trust  that  as  you 
see  the  vices  of  college,  you  will  give  double  diligence  to  shun 
them  ;  and  that  you  will  be  kept  from  falling  into  any  of  the 
temptations  with  which  your  path  is  beset.  But  you  well 
know  that  there  is  nothing  in  yourself  which  can  prevent  you 
from  doing  so ;  therefore  beseech  him  who  is  faithful,  that  he 
will,  with  all  your  temptations,  also  make  a  way  to  escape, 
that  you  may  bear  it.  Cast  yourself  upon  Christ ;  trust  in 
him  and  you  are  safe ;  give  yourself  up  to  him,  and  he  will 
take  care  of  you. 

I  do  earnestly  hope  that  you  will  not  suffer  your  attention 
to  be  drawn  away  from  the  contemplation  of  those  invisible 
and  eternal  realities,  which  will  soon  be  opened  upon  our 
vision  ;  but  that  you  will  be  continually  prepared  for  whatever 
can  befall  you,  and  thus  experience  the  happiness  of  a  pre 
paration  for  that  rest  which  reniairicth  for  the  people  of  Grod 
You  must  not  be  high-minded,  nor  trust  in  uncertain  things, 
nor  be  puffed  up  with  vain  glory,  but  rather  put  on  humble 
ness  of  mind,  meekness,  and  follow  after  righteousness. 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVER,    M.D.  57 

I  can  assure  you,  that  without  ceasing,  I  have  remembrance 
of  you  in  my  prayers,  greatly  desiring  to  see  you.  It  is  a 
great  disappointment  to  me,  not  being  able  to  come  down  to 
see  you;  but  Thanksgiving  will  soon  be  here,  and  then  I  hope 
we  shall  all  partake  of  the  bountiful  blessings  with  which  our 
cup  runneth  over  together,  and  with  thankful  hearts.  It  is  to 
be  the  twenty-fifth  of  November,  and  George  will  probably  be 
with  us. 

When  T  received  your  last  excellent  epistle,  I  could  hardly 
contain  myself.  What  wonders  the  Lord  is  working  !  I  agree 
with  you  in  thinking  that  the  millennial  day  will  soon  be  here, 
if  revivals  and  converts  are  multiplied  as  they  now  seem  to  be 
— at  least,  that  something  like  it  will  be  enjoyed  in  our  highly- 
favored  country.  Let  us  joyfully  praise  the  Lord  that  he  is  so 
abundantly  pouring  out  his  Spirit  in  other  places  ;  and  let  these 
instances  of  his  goodness  lead  us  to  pray  more  earnestly — to 
pray  mightily,  without  ceasing,  that  he  would  visit  us  with  his 
presence — that  converts  may  increase  as  the  sands  on  the  sea 
shore — that  all,  yea  ALL  may  honor  him  from  the  least  even 
unto  the  greatest.  No ;  it  is  not  too  much  to  ask  that  ALL 
may  be  brought  to  the  feet  of  Jesus.  That  blessed  Saviour 
hath  said,  u  If  thou  canst  believe,  all  things  arc  possible  to 
him  that  believeth."  Let  us  pray  in  faith,  believing  that  we 
shall  receive — that  God  is  able  to  give  unto  us  more  abun 
dantly  than  we  can  ask  or  even  think.  Then  may  we  expect 
a  blessing  !  Then  will  the  Lord  reign  triumphant !  "  Oh, 
that  this  dry  and  barren  ground,  in  springs  of  water  may 
abound."  I  long  and  faint  to  see  the  work  of  the  Lord  going 
on  prosperously  here.  Do  not  measure  my  affection  by  what 
I  have  written,  but  believe  me  your  ardently  loving  brother, 

NATHANIEL. 

Hallowellj  November  19,  1830. 

MOST    DEARLY    BELOVED    BROTHER    HENRY. — In     the 
tumult  of  my  troubled  thoughts,  for  some  time  past  I  hare 
3* 


58  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

been  as  a  poor  storm-stricken  barque,  driven  about  hither  and 
thither,  at  the  mercy  of  almost  every  wave,  which  Satan  and 
my  own  evil  imagination  united,  have  been  able  to  excite. 
But,  notwithstanding  my  own  folly  and  unbelief,  the  Lord 
hath  not  utterly  forsaken  me,  though  I  have  wandered  from 
him  ;  but  "  he  has  delivered  mine  eyes  from  tears,  my  soul 
from  death,  and  my  feet  from  falling."  And  now  I  may  well 
exclaim  with  David,  "  What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for 
all  his  benefits  ?"  and  I  hope  I  may  unite  with  him  in  his 
answer,  "  I  will  take  the  cup  of  salvation,  and  call  upon  his 
name"  with  more  earnestness,  and  serve  him  with  more  devo 
tion,  than  I  have  yet  done.  If  we  were  as  faithful  to  our  dear 
Redeemer  as  he  is  to  us,  how  different  should  we  be  ! 

If  by  the  introduction  of  ourselves,  and  our  own  experi 
ence,  we  may  do  anything  towards  promoting  each  other's  dili 
gence  in  the  way  to  heaven,  or  furnish  food  for  praise  to  our 
blessed  Master,  then  I  hope  it  will  be  an  excuse  for  thus 
making  myself  so  far  the  subject  of  this  letter.  I  am  glad 
you  are  so  pleasantly  and  profitably  situated,  and  hope  all 
your  blessings  will  increase  your  love  and  devotion  to  him 
who  is  the  fountain  from  whence  all  originate  and  are  sup 
plied. 

Your  eyes  must  be  a  severe  drawback  from  your  amount 
of  study ;  but  I  hope  the  grand  principal  of  your  treasure  in 
heaven  will  be  so  much  the  more  added  to  by  this  very  means. 
You  must  be  very  careful  not  to  injure  them  by  too  much 
use ;  but  when  you  are  disabled  from  using  your  mortal  eyes, 
then  open  your  spiritual  vision,  and  go  up  and  survey  the  pro 
mised  land,  and  you  shall  obtain  the  first-fruits  of  your  pos 
session,  which  will  be  as  honey  in  the  honeycomb,  and  sweet 
refreshments  on  your  way  thither.  You  must,  dear  Henry, 
forgive  this  advice-giving  manner  of  writing,  when  I  stand  in 
need  of  so  much  exhortation  myself,  and  receive  it  from  the 
source  whence  it  comes,  a  sincere  desire  for  your  good. 


59 

The  following  letter  to  a  beloved  uncle  is  almost  the 
only  one  that  is  preserved,  written  to  persons  out  of 
his  own  family  circle.  It  was  copied  by  his  Mother, 
"without  his  knowledge,  before  it  was  transmitted,  she 
judging  it  to  contain  something  remarkable  as  from  a 
lad  of  fifteen. 

Hallow dl,  April  2Qth,  1831. 

MY  DEAR  UNCLE — Although  I  have  so  long  delayed  to 
fulfil  that  promise  I  made  to  you,  yet,  nevertheless,  feeling 
the  force  of  the  proverb,  "  hotter  late  than  never,"  I  have 
determined  not  to  let  another  opportunity  pass  without  send 
ing  some  testimony  of  my  great  affection  both  to  you  and  all 
my  beloved  kinsfolk,  in  the  very  ancient  and  venerated  town 
of  Old  York,  greatly  endeared  by  being  the  birthplace  of  my 
beloved  mother,  and  the  long-continued  abiding  city  of  my 
venerable  ancestors.  My  dear  late  Grandfather  has  now,  I 
trust,  entered  that  "  heavenly  city  which  hath  foundations, 
whose  builder  and  maker  is  God."  He  waited  long  for  his 
reward,  but  now  I  hope  has  received  it,  and  a  glorious  one  it 
is.  He  is  now  walking  about  the  new  Jerusalem,  marking 
well  her  bulwarks,  counting  her  towers,  and  surveying  her 
beautiful  gates,  unincumbered  with  this  fleshly  tabernacle,  but 
clothed  afresh  in  his  Redeemer's  righteousness  ;  there  his 
voice  which  was  here  rendered  discordant  by  old  age  and 
Infirmity,  shall  be  for  ever  tuned  to  the  triumphant  u  song 
of  Moses  and  the  Lamb." 

Oh,  my  dear  uncle,  it  were  ten  thousand  times  worth  while 
to  write  you,  if  it  were  only  to  let  you  know,  if  language 
could  do  it,  the  infinite  riches  of  his  grace,  which  God  has 
manifested  unto  me  in  bidding  me  to  choose  that  better  part, 
"  a  Saviour's  matchless  love,"  in  assuring  me  my  sins  arc 
forgiven,  and  my  transgressions  blotted  out,  and  above  all,  in 
giving  me  a  title  and  making  me  an  heir  to  that  everlasting 
rest  which  remaineth  for  his  people  ;  this  is  indeed  that 


60  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

peace  winch  the  world  cannot  give  or  take  away,  the  calm,  holy 
joy,  which  all  the  philosophy,  vain  reasoning,  and  foolish  imagi 
nation  in  the  whole  universe,  cannot  confer,  but  which  will 
indeed  be  given  to  all  who  will  only  believe  in,  love,  and  obey 
that  blessed  Saviour,  who  will  never  disappoint  our  hopes. 

Dear  Uncle,  this  balm  of  Gilead  would  be  a  cheering  con 
solation  to  you  in  the  midst  of  all  your  trials.  Jesus  is  a 
friend  "  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother."  He  regardeth 
not  our  outward  circumstances ;  if  so  be  we  only  have  the 
riches  of  a  broken  and  a  contrite  spirit,  he  will  surely  accept 
it.  I  sincerely  rejoice  that  my  dear  cousins  B.  and  M.  have 
chosen  that  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  from  them, 
but  will  serve  them  when  all  other  hopes  fail.  I  would  gladly 
make  known  unto  you  how  condescendingly  good  and  gracious 
the  Lord  has  been  to  us  as  a  family,  in  bringing  us  all  to  be 
partakers  of  his  grace,  and  of  the  household  of  Faith.  And 
to  add  to  all  our  blessings,  my  health  is  much  improved,  so 
that  I  feel  somewhat  encouraged  to  hope  it  will  be  entirely 
restored. 

I  intend  taking  a  journey  on  horseback  as  soon  as  we  can 
obtain  a  good  horse,  and  it  is  possible  that  I  may  wend  my 
way  towards  Old  York.  I  can  assure  you  that  if  I  journey 
anywhere  near  to  the  land  of  my  forefathers,  I  shall  not  fail 
to  let  you  see  I  remember  with  gratitude  and  great  pleasure 
the  pleasant  summer  I  spent  under  your  hospitable  roof. 

It  injures  me  to  write  long  letters,  and  therefore  I  will 
leave  the  rest  of  the  sheet  for  Mother's  initiated  pen  to  fill. 
She  will  tell  you  all  about  us.  Give  my  best  love  to  cousins 
B.  and  M.,  and  all  Uncle  John's  family,  and  accept  the 
hearty  wishes  both  for  your  temporal  and  spiritual  welfare  of 
your  affectionate  nephew, 

NATHANIEL  CHEEVER 

To  J.  S.   BARRELL,  Esq., 
York,  Maine. 

It  was  about  this  time,  on  occasion  of  the  fifteenth 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVEE,    M.D.  61 

anniversary  of  his  birth,  that  he  received  from  his 
brother  George,  then  a  resident  Licentiate  at  Andover,a 
birthday  tribute,  which  is  inserted  here  simply  because 
it  illustrates  certain  points  of  personal  character  and 
history  better  than  anything  else  can,  and  because  it 
explains  and  prepares  the  way  for  the  rejoinder  that 
followed. 

MY  BROTHER'S  BIRTHDAY,  MARCH  29TH,  1831. 

I  wish,  dear  Nat,  my  heart  could  weave 
A  strain  of  simple  melody, 
Where  love  in  every  line  should  leave 
Its  own  dear  tones  for  thee. 

And  sooth,  if  love  could  teach  the  soul 
The  language  of  Apollo's  lyre, 
My  thoughts  would  all  be  musical, 
My  words  all  wing'd  with  fire. 

x  The  wish,  I  know,  is  sadly  vain, 

Thoughts  rise,  and  fond  affections  throng, 
But  with  the  sweetest  white-stoled  train, 
Then  comes  no  tone  of  song. 

I  would  chain  down  the  airy  crowds, 
And  keep  them  while  I  seek  sweet  words ; 
Alas  !  they  change  like  summer  clouds, 
They  droop  like  prisoned  birds. 

How  can  I  paint  their  changeful  dyes, 
Or  stay  them  in  their  shining  flight  1 
They  come  like  birds  from  Paradise, 
They  fly  away  as  light ! 

The  simplest  birthday  wish  is  shy — 
All  Love's  best  thoughts  of  the  same  race 
For  while  I'm  sure  I  have  them  nigh, 
They've  fled,  and  left  no  trace. 


62  MEMOEIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

Dear  BROTHER,  thou  wilt  then  forgive, 
Nor  think  me  less  affectionate, 
If,  while  to  meet  thy  wish  I  strive, 
It  comes  a  day  too  late. 

For  were  my  soul  all  melody, 
My  words  the  same  they  use  in  heaven, 
This  earnest  heart  could  never  be 
More  freely  to  thee  given. 

We're  one ;  our  mother's  equal  care  ; 
One  in  our  mutual  sympathies, — 
And  more  than  all,  in  mutual  prayer, 
By  endless,  holy  ties. 

I've  rocked  thee  in  thy  cradle — played 
With  thee  in  childhood's  frolic  hours ; 
With  thee  have  roamed  through  grove  and  glade 
And  plucked  the  vernal  flowers. 

We've  shared  old  winter's  wild  delight, 
We've  gathered  nuts  in  summer  woods, 
We've  proudly  watched  our  breeze-borne  kite 
Among  the  sailing  clouds. 

But  not  in  such  gay  sympathy 
Our  mutual  love  has  tenderest  grown ; 
For  oft  must  griefs  sad  harmony 
Interpret  its  deep  tone. 

When  sickness  blanched  thy  rosy  cheek, 
And  brought  thy  buoyant  spirit  low, 
How  dear  thou  wast  from  week  to  week, 
I  trembled  then  to  know. 

Our  youngest,  brightest  household  flower  ! 
It  was  a  melancholy  thing 
To  see  thee  droop  from  hour  to  hour, 
In  patient  suffering. 

Oh,  then  I  felt  the  privilege 
To  breathe  my  silent,  humble  prayer ; 
Yet  wept  o'er  pains,  whose  wasting  edge 
My  frame  could  better  bear. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEB,    M.D.  63 

I  watched  thy  restless  sleep — I  tried 
To  woo  thee  to  thy  wonted  smile, 
And  every  way,  when  by  thy  side, 
Thy  sufferings  to  beguile. 

These  duties  were  love's  natural  sphere  ; 
My  drooping  flower  I  cherished  so, 
That  still  the  more  it  asked  my  care, 
The  dearer  still  it  grew. 

This  day  did  fancy  paint  what's  true, 
I'm  with  thee  in  my  own  dear  Home, 
To  talk  of  mercies  past— and  view ' 
The  Heavenly  Life  to  come. 

This  day — 'Tis  yet  thy  being's  dawn  ! 
But  Oh  how  full  the  mingled  scene, 
On  memory's  pictured  tabkt  drawn! 
Calm  now,  and  all  serene. 

Serene,  because  a  blessed  faith — 
Throws  o'er  each  melancholy  line, 
That  marks  affliction's  rugged  path, 
The  gleam  of  Love  Divine. 

Through  all,  it  sees  thy  Father's  form  ; 
His  gracious,  guiding  hand  beholds, 
And  in  the  gloomiest  of  the  storm 
Some  bright  design  unfolds. 

Amid  the  suffering  of  years, 
Thou  seest  thou  didst  not  walk  alone ; 
When  all  was  agony  and  tears, 
Then  most  His  mercy  shone. 

'Twas  thus  he  drew  thy  careless  heart 
Up  to  a  holier  world  above, 
And  bade  thee  choose  that  better  part, 
A  Saviour's  matchless  love. 

There  is  a  gayer-colored  scene 
Of  laughing  health  and  dimpled  ease; 
Thy  bounding  heart  that  knew  no  pain. 
Was  wild  as  any  breeze. 


MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

The  house  was  merry  with  thy  song, 
Thy  fawn-like  step  danced  free  and  wild ; 
And  of  the  happy  schoolboy  throng, 
Thou  wast  the  happiest  child. 

All  elements  to  thee  looked  gay, 
All  seasons  ministered  delight ; 
'Twas  constant  motion  every  day, 
JTwas  gentle  sleep  at  night. 

How  soon  a  cloud  of  painful  hue 
Chased  the  bright  jubilee  away, 
Yet,  wast  thou  happier  then  than  now  ? 
Dear,  patient  brother,  say. 

I  know  thine  answer,  well — In  vain 
Are  youth,  and  health,  and  spirits  given, 
If  strangers  still  to  care  and  pain, 
We  never  think  of  heaven. 

What  soothes  the  soul,  betrays :  select 
The  best  possessions  earth  can  grant, 
Our  thankless  heart  may  still  reject 
Its  Heavenly  Visitant. 

A  life  all  ease  is  all  abused  ; 
O  precious  grace  !  that  made  thee  wise, 
To  know  —affliction  rightly  used, 
Is  mercy  in  disguise. 

The  pleasures  of  the  happiest  boy 
Are  not  so  bright  as  fugitive  ; 
But  O  !  the  endless,  heavenly  joy 
Thy  Saviour's  smile  can  give  ! 

Bring  me  each  gem  earth  could  impart, 
To  crown  life's  morning  festival, 
One  breathing  of  a  contrite  heart 
In  bliss  were  worth  them  all. 

For  this  my  fervent  thanks  I  raise, 
That  He,  whose  love  is  wisdom  too, 
Makes  thee  partaker  of  his  grace 
By  trials  here  below. 


OF    NATHANIEL    OILEEVER,    M.D.  65 

Trust,  then,  thy  dear  Redeemer's  name ; 
For  He  can  never,  never  leave 
The  weakest  of  the  flock  he  came 
To  seek,  renew,  and  save. 

Should  health  and  active  power  return, 
And  life  put  on  a  brighter  glow, 
Be  often  at  his  cross,  and  learn, 
His  goodness  best  to  show. 

'Tis  only  He  who  gives  the  boon, 
By  grace  can  make  it  truly  good  ; 
And  I  would  have  thy  life  be  one 
Of  ceaseless  gratitude. 

In  active  health,  or  sad  disease, 
Oh,  ne'er  forget  that  precious  word — 
"  He  shall  be  kept  in  perfect  peace, 
Whose  soul  is  stayed  on  God." 

If  still  thy  feeble  frame  decay, 
Thou  art  beyond  its  weak  control, 
The  vision  of  eternal  day 

Lifts  up  thy  strengthened  soul. 

Christ  holds  thee  in  his  powerful  hand, 
Soon  every  foe  and  fear  subdued, 
Thy  feet  shall  press  the  shining  land, 
Beyond  death's  narrow  flood. 

But  if  his  blessed  will  reserve 
Thy  faith  for  trials  long  and  late, 
Remember,  then,  "  they  also  serve 
Who  only  stand  and  wait." 

His  will,  whate'er  it  be,  is  best, 
With  Jesus  all  thy  sorrows  hide, 
And  in  his  love  thou  shall  be  blest, 
Whatever  else  betide. 

THEO.  SEMINARY,  ANDOVER,  MASS.,  March,  1831. 


MEMORIALS    OF    THE    LIFE 

Hallowell,  April  10^,  1831. 

DEARLY  BELOVED  AND  HONORED  BROTHER. — I  have  been 
fo:-  sonic  time  trying,  with  all  my  might,  to  manufacture  ma 
terials  for  one  of  my  long,  slow-written,  and  belabored, 
though  withal  affectionate  epistles  ;  but  all  my  attempts  had 
hitherto  been  abortive,  until  I  received  your  delightful  and 
truly  poetical  letter,  which  seemed  to  let  loose  the  flood-gates 
of  affection,  and  bring  all  the  mighty  waters  of  love  to  bear 
irresistibly  upon  the  wheel  of  my  will. 

I  have  said  "  belabored  epistle,"  because  I  do  suppose  that 
it  takes  me  about  as  long,  perhaps  longer,  to  write  a  half 
page,  than  it  does  you  to  fill  a  whole  sheet  from  beginning  to 
end,  with  the  most  invaluable  and  affectionate  counsel  and 
advice.  So  you  may  see,  my  dear  Brother,  that  to  me  it  is 
an  undertaking  of  no  common  magnitude  and  importance.  I 
wish  sincerely  that  I  could  "  weave  some  strain  of  simple 
melody,"  to  return  my  warm,  hearty,  and  heartfelt  thanks  for 
your  affectionate  stanzas,  to  express  my  admiration  of  which, 
all  language  is  alike  in  vain.  I  do  most  ardently  wish  that  I 
could  clothe  my  thanks  in  some  other  garment  than  the  bare 
expression  of  them  in  cold,  dry  prose.  I  have  tried,  but  in 
vain,  to  habit  them  in  the  shining  vesture  of  poetry  ;  but  I 
seem  to  be  as  unfruitful  in  this  respect  as  the  dreariest  desert. 

But  1  will  turn  from  this  subject  to  one  which,  I  hope,  will 
enlist  the  warmest  feelings  of  both  our  hearts — the  cause  of 
our  blessed  Redeemer.  I  rejoice,  yea,  and  will  rejoice,  that 
I  have  ever  chosen  "  a  friend  and  helper  so  divine  ;"  and  I 
think  that  since  I  have  publicly  declared  him  to  be  my  chosen 
portion,  I  have  felt  more  steadfast  and  unmovable,  and  have 
been  able  to  rely  upon  him  with  a  more  implicit  confidence 
than  before.  1  long,  perfectly  long  to  see  your  face,  and 
"  talk  of  mercies  past,  and  view  the  heavenly  life  to  come." 
Oh,  what  a  blessed  hope  is  that  which  we  enjoy  !  Eternal 
life  !  To  be  for  ever  with  our  beloved  Saviour  !  Drink  in  for 
ever  his  boundless  love.  We  shall  be  filled,  yet  not  cloyed — 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVEK,    M.D.  67 

always  loving,  yet  never  cease  to  love.  Well  may  we  say, 
when  we  can  read  our  titles  clear  to  the  heavenly  inheri 
tance  : 

Let  cares  like  a  wild  deluge  come, 

And  storms  of  sorrow  fall, 
May  I  but  safely  reach  my  home, 

My  God,  my  heaven,  my  all. 

Oh  !  may  we  all  meet  upon  that  blissful  shore  never  more 
to  part.  It  is  an  unutterable  consolation  to  know,  that  if  we 
once  arrive  there,  we  shall  never,  never  more  separate.  The 
dear  little  Lou;3a,*  I  do  feel  a  tender  anxiety  for  her,  that 
she  may  become  a  sweet  lamb  of  Christ's  flock,  and  a  par 
taker  of  the  same  hope  with  all  the  rest  of  us.  You  must, 
dear  Brother,  make  mention  of  her  particularly  in  your  sup 
plications  at  the  throne  of  grace.  When  I  look  upon  the 
amazing  goodness  of  God  towards  us  as  a  family,  I  am  struck 
dumb  with  astonishment,  and  can  only  exclaim  :  "  It  is  the 
Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes."  It  becomes 
us,  indeed,  above  all  other  families,  to  be  all  his  devoted  ser 
vants. 

The  state  of  religion  here  is  as  favorable,  if  not  more  so, 
than  it  has  been.  We  have  established  a  prayer-meeting  for 
every  Sabbath  morning.  I  hope  the  interest  will  soon  be  so 
great  as  to  have  it  every  morning.  I  wish  you  would  send 
a  neat  pocket  edition  of  llise  and  Progress  ;  but  be  sure  it 
has  the  whole  in  it.  Such  an  invaluable  book  I  want  the 
whole  of.  Never  cease  to  pray  for  me  that  I  may  be  filled 
with  all  wisdom  and  spiritual  understanding. 

The  date  and  place  of  the  following  letter,  indicate 
the  removal  of  its  writer  from  the  maternal  roof  at 
jLLiilluwell,  to  the  temporary  abode  of  his  brother 
George,  at  Newburyport,  Mass.  The  journey  thither 

*  This  was  a  young  cousin,  for  some  years  a  member  of  the  family. 


68  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

was  effected  in  a  chaise,  under  the  care  of  his  beloved 
pastor.  It  was  hoped  that  the  change  might  prove 
beneficial,  and  that  a  summer's  residence  nearer  the 
sea  would  invigorate  his  corporeal  frame,  and  the 
society  and  care  of  his  brother  be  helpful  to  his  spiri 
tual  growth.  All  the  time  of  his  abiding  there,  was  a 
period  of  deep  and  solemn  religious  interest.  The 
exercises  of  his  mind,  and  his  love  for  souls  were  re 
markable  ;  and  the  development  of  his  religious  cha 
racter  excited  a  warm  interest  in  the  hearts  of  those 
with  whom  he  was  conversant. 

Newluryport,  August  23d,  1831. 

MY  VERY  DEAR  SISTER. — Having  been  thus  far  prevented 
from  fulfilling  the  desire  of  my  heart,  by  an  obstacle  which, 
by  the  goodness  of  God,  seems  now  in  a  measure  to  be  re 
moved,  I  have  determined  to  open  the  hydrant  of  my  affec 
tions,  and  let  them  flow  on  in  an  undisturbed  course  towards 
the  place  of  their  grand  "  merry-meeting"  home.  And  surely 
if  self-denial  be  great  in  proportion  to  the  strength  of  the 
principle  resisted,  then  have  I  exercised  it  in  no  small  degree, 
in  so  long  restraining  myself  from  answering  your  welcome 
sheet,  which  has  served  to  unlock  the  great  fountains  of  my  im 
prisoned  love,  and  let  its  fragrant  waters  bound  forth  in  such 
a  lively  and  vigorous  manner  as  would  soon  have  made  you  a 
witness  of  their  strength  ;  but  the  frail  tabernacle  which  I 
inhabit,  was  in  too  weak  a  state  to  perform  the  will  of  its 
ever  active  and  willing  spirit ;  and  so,  out  of  stern  necessity, 
I  was  obliged  to  sit  down  and  wait  patiently  until  my  strength 
of  body  should,  in  some  slight  measure,  be  equal  to  the  fulfil 
ment  of  the  struggling  desires  of  my  heart. 

I  received  your  cheering  letter  at  a  time  when  (if  indeed 
circumstances  could  render  an  epistle  from  home  more  or  less 
acceptable)  it  might  truly  be  termed  "  as  cold  water  to  a 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVER,    M.D.  69 

thirsty  soul ;"  for  it  greeted  my  longing  eyes'  on  the  eve  of 
the  day  of  the  departure  of  my  dear  Brother  for  Andover, 
on  his  way  to  Amherst.  You  will,  probably,  think  I  am 
quite  desolate  without  his  delightful  society  in  a  strange  town, 
and  without  any  near  and  dear  friend  to  supply  the  place  of  a 
brother  beloved  ;  but  though  you  may  with  truth  believe  I 
feel  his  absence,  yet  I  feel  no  sense  of  dreariness,  as  I  have 
a  chamber  to  myself  which  commands  a  very  pleasant  pros 
pect  both  of  the  sea  and  land,  and  what  1  think  will  gene 
rally  be  the  case  in  the  domains  of  our  dear  Brother — a 
choice  assortment  of  the  most  enriching  and  edifying  books. 
But,  although  these  are  sweet  refreshments  and  means  of 
comfort  to  our  weary  souls  when  used  aright,  yet  I  think  I 
should  soon  faint  and  fall  down  by  the  way,  if  I  had  not  the 
sweet  solace  and  comforting  cordial  of  a  Saviour's  love, 
wherewith  to  refresh  my  weary  spirit,  and  from  whence  to 
derive  support  in  the  hour  of  pain  and  temptation. 

We  have  long  had  reason  to  bless  the  name  of  the  Lord, 
which  would  hardly  seem  capable  of  increase  in  this  place  of 
our  pilgrimage  ;  but  I  think  since  I  have  been  in  the  scene  of 
our  dear  Brother's  labors — have  seen  and  heard  of  his  useful 
ness — that  he  has  been  made  the  blessed  instrument  of  turn 
ing  some  unto  lightcousness — this  seems  to  give  birth  to 
feelings  that  cannot  be  uttered.  Oh  !  what  wonderful  love  is 
that  which  makes  use  of  such  worms  for  the  accomplishment 
of  his  purposes  of  mercy.  Why  doth  not  he  who  knoweth 
all  things  from  the  beginning,  speak  the  word  only,  and  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth — all  the  creatures  of  his  creation, 
shall,  in  swift  obedience,  bow  the  knee  unto  the  mighty  Re 
deemer  !  But  no  ;  his  infinite  love  chooses  rather  that  they 
whom  he  has  redeemed  with  his  precious  blood,  should  de 
clare  his  name  unto  others.  May  this  fresh  instance  of  the 
inexhaustible  goodness  of  our  heavenly  Father  have  its  right 
effect,  and  make  us  all  to  increase  in  humility  and  holy  devo 
tion  to  our  Master's  service.  The  revival  still  continues,  I 


70  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

believe,  with  unabated  interest,  and  many  new  pilgrims  are 
turning  their  faces  Zionward. 

We  turn  again  to   the  Journal,  of  which  there  is 
nothing  preserved  in  the  year  1831,  until  near  its  close 


l)  December  18. 

It  is  now  more  than  two  months  since  I  have  written  to 
record  the  dealings  of  God  towards  me,  or  to  mark  against 
myself  my  own  wanderings  ;  hut  I  think  it  has  not  been  from 
a  disposition  to  depreciate  His  goodness,  or  to  think  lightly  of 
my  own  unfaithfulness,  but  from  a  conviction  that  the  entire 
sinfulness  of  my  heart  would  have  room  to  act,  and  thus  rather 
than  be  a  benefit  would  prove  detrimental  to  my  spiritual 
welfare  ;  and  the  same  conviction  led  me  to  destroy  the  be 
ginning  of  this  diary,  but  I  do  now  most  sincerely  repent  of 
it.  And  I  do  now,  in  again  commencing  it,  call  the  Lord 
God  to  witness  that  it  is  from  a  sincere,  humble  desire  for  my 
own  spiritual  improvement,  and,  therefore,  for  His  glory.  The 
subordinate  objects  shall  be,  first,  a  regulator  of  my  actions, 
and  guard  of  my  conversation  and  deportment  ;  second,  a 
check  on  the  misemployment  of  time  ;  third,  to  keep  my  heart 
with  all  diligence,  a  restrainer  of  wandering  thoughts,  a  sort  of 
tribunal  before  which  to  bring  to  judgment  my  thoughts, 
words,  and  works.  But  I  will  guard  against  being  in  any 
measure  satisfied  with  it  to  the  exclusion  of  the  most  faithful 
self-examination  of  my  feelings  —  will  endeavor  to  be  as  con 
cise  and  brief  as  possible  —  never  write  more  than  I  feel,  from 
mere  pleasure  in  writing.  I  will  consider  it  more  as  a  means 
of  improvement,  and  therefore,  as  a  duty  rather  than  a  mere 
pleasure. 

Sabbath  20th.  —  Have  had  a  delightful  day  of  rest.  Enjoy 
sweet  consolation  in  looking  forward  to  an  eternity  of  happi 
ness  in  the  presence  of  God.  The  Lord  has  been  most  gra 
ciously  kind  in  delivering  me  from  temptation.  Have  been 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVER,    M.D. 

most  dreadfully  harassed  for  several  weeks  with  vile  thoughts, 
insomuch  as  to  destroy  almost  all  my  enjoyment.  0  Lord, 
suffer  them  no  more  to  return,  but  occupy  my  heart  so  en 
tirely  with  thyself,  that  other  thoughts  shall  have  no  room  to 
enter.  I  solemnly  meant  to  have  renewed  my  covenant  with 
God  upon  its  anniversary,  but  I  was  tossed  and  driven  about 
in  such  a  manner  that  I  could  do  it  with  no  profit. 

February  19,  1832. — Oh,  wretched  being  that  I  am  !  who 
shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?  I  am  misera 
ble — have  grieved  away  the  Holy  Spirit.  I  doubt  whether  I 
have  ever  been  renewed.  I  am  convinced  of  the  guilt  of 
destroying  the  first  part  of  this  journal.  It  was  the  beginning 
of  sorrows  with  me.  All  evidence  of  being  a  Christian  seems 
to  be  gone.  Seem  to  have  no  plans  for  the  future.  All  order 
is  gone.  Cannot  think,  talk,  or  act.  Am  an  unfruitful  tree. 
Don't  know  what  to  do.  Seem  to  have  no  refuge.  The  light 
of  God1s  countenance  is  hid  from  me.  But  it  is  all  owin<r  to 

O 

my  own  negligence.  I  have  departed  from  him,  and  He  has 
hid  his  face  from  me.  All  I  seem  to  do  is  to  look  back  like 
the  man  with  the  turned  head. 

March  18^,  1832.  Sabbath. — My  birth-day  is  fast  ap 
proaching.  Can  it  be  that  I  shall  be  sixteen  years  old  ?  I 
have  not  improved  the  last  six  months  of  this  year  to  any  pur 
pose.  I  do  think  it  was  a  serious  injury  to  me  in  destroying 
the  first  part  of  this  journal.  I  can  never  replace  it,  no,  never. 
I  can't  be  said  to  think.  Don't  do  any  thing.  Have  forgot 
every  thing  I  knew.  I  want  to  do  something,  and  to  do 
something  in  the  world.  But  I  feel  that  my  character  is 
spoiled,  almost  irretrievably.  I  advance  and  then  go  back, 
and  then  advance  a  little,  but  it  seems  to  avail  nothing.  Am 
studying,  but  seem  not  to  understand  myself — turn  this  way 
and  that,  but  do  nothing. 

March  25th. — Feel  better  than  I  have.  Have  made  con 
siderable  progress  in  my  studies,  but  do  not  seem  to  be  spi 
ritual.  My  birth-day  is  fast  approaching.  Soon  all  will  be 


2  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

past.  I  shall  soon  be  in  eternity.  Eternity !  that  solemn 
word !  Am  I  living  for  eternity  ?  Am  I  adorning  the  doc 
trine  of  God  my  Saviour  in  all  things  ?  I  feel  confident  that 
I  am  not.  But,  shall  I  sit  down  and  say  all  is  done  and  past? 
Not  by  any  means.  My  obligations  are  infinitely  greater  than 
they  ever  were  before.  My  health  of  body  is  more  than  it 
has  ever  been  since  afflicted  with  ill  health.  And,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  I  do  resolve  to  fight  and  strive  to  advance  in 
the  heavenly  road.  Help  I  must  have,  for  all  my  efforts  are 
ineffectual  unless  assisted  by  that  grace  and  strength  which  is 
from  above.  Do  thou,  0  Lord,  give  it.  Oh,  give  me  an 
abundance  of  that  daily  grace  which  I  so  continually  need. 

May  22d,  1832.  Tuesday. — A  solemn  providence  has 
occurred.  Death  has  almost,  as  it  were,  crossed  our  own 
threshold.  My  cousin,  0.  M.  Sewall,  a  daughter  of  my  dear 
aunt  Hannah,  departed  from  this  noisome  world  on  Saturday 
afternoon,  May  19th,  at  4  o'clock.  Her  release,  we  have 
reason  to  think,  was  a  happy  one.  She  has  for  a  long  season 
endured  a  large  amount  of  suffering,  which  she  has  borne  with 
the  most  exemplary  patience,  but  she  has  now  escaped  from 
her  prison-house,  and,  I  trust,  is  enjoying  the  blessedness  of 
a  redeemed  spirit  in  the  presence  of  her  God  and  Saviour, 
who  was  her  support  and  consolation  while  tortured  with  the 
pains  of  a  diseased  body. 

I  have  this  day  been  to  visit  the  now  lifeless  clay  which  she 
inhabited  while  on  earth.  What  an  humbling  lesson  of  mor 
tality  is  an  inanimate  body  !  "  Dust  thou  art,  and  unto  dust 
thou  shalt  return,"  seems  to  be  written  upon  every  feature. 
And  how  soon  this  sentence  will  be  executed  upon  me  !  I 
may  be  the  next  victim  upon  whom  Death  will  fasten.  I  know 
neither  the  day  nor  the  hour  when  the  Son  of  Man  cometh. 
But  it  is  no  matter  how  soon  he  comes,  if  I  be  only  found  with 
my  loins  girded  and  lamp  trimmed  and  burning ;  if  I  only  be 
found  ready  and  waiting  to  welcome  his  first  approach.  May 
this  solemn  event  be  blessed  to  me  as  the  means  of  increasing 


OF    NATHANIEL    CIIEKVER,    M.I).  *   7?> 

my  growth  in  grace,  and  warning  me  to  prepare  at  any  time 
to  lay  down  this  earthly  tabernacle,  and  be  called  before  God, 
a  naked  soul  to  receive  of  the  deeds  done  in  the  body. 

Hallowell,  April  8th,  1832. 

MOST  DEAR  AXD  HONORED  BROTHER  GEORGE. — You  might 
well  think,  by  my  long-continued  silence,  if  you  had  not 
hitherto  perceived  too  great  a  depth  of  affection  in  me  to 
warrant  such  an  opinion,  that  I  had  ceased  to  regard  you  by 
this  endearing  title,  and  was  content  to  be  merely  denomi 
nated  by  the  appellation  of  brother— a  term  significant  in 
deed  of  a  most  endearing  relation,  yet  which  sometimes  exists 
under  the  almost  total  want  of  fraternal  feeling.  But  you,  I 
am  sure,  will  credit  my  honest  profession,  taimtsi  mea  tacitur- 
nitaS)  that  there  has  been  no  diminution,  but  rather  an  in 
crease  of  my  ardent  brotherly  affection  ;  and  I  hope  this  letter, 
though  it  may  be  short,  will,  in  some  measure,  atone  for  my 
former  delinquencies,  and  restore  my  epistolatory  escutcheon 
to  its  ancient  purity. 

It  will  certainly  not  be  an  exercise  unbefitting  the  charac 
ter  of  this  sacred  evening,  to  mention  some  of  the  numberless 
mercies  which  I  have  been,  and  am  continually  receiving  from 
the  unwearied  and  overflowing  beneficence  of  our  heavenly 
Father.  The  unwonted  and  almost  continual  supply  of 
health  which  I  have  this  winter  enjoyed,  and  the  ability  to 
study  it  has  given  me,  are  blessings  which,  independent  of  the 
multifarious  ones  we  are  always  receiving,  ought  to  excite  not 
only  in  my  bosom,  but,  1  think  I  may  say  without  egotism,  in 
all  our  hearts,  the  most  sincere  and  unfeigned  gratitude.  I 
know  that  we  all,  as  a  family,  and  as  Christians,  possess  many 
sympathies  which  render  a  blessing  conferred  upon  one  indi 
vidually,  in  some  degree  conferred  upon  the  whole. 

You  who  have  never  been  for  a  long  time  interrupted  by 
sickness,  or,  in  fact,  from  any  other  cause,  either  in  academic, 
collegiate,  or  theological  studies,  can  hardly  conceive  the  joy 

4: 


74:  MEMORIALS    OF    THE    LIFE 

and  satisfaction  it  affords  me  to  be  enabled,  after  so  Ions;  an 
interval,  not  only  of  interruption  but  of  disease  and  inability, 
again  to  be  permitted  to  return  with  new  zest  to  their  prose 
cution.  I  think  I  may  safely  say,  my  health  has  never  been 
so  good,  and  I  have  never  enjoyed  so  much  strength  and 
vigor  since  the  period  of  my  first  illness.  As  E.  is  writing, 
and  will  probably  inform  you  concerning  my  external  appear 
ance,  I  will  add  no  more  on  this  topic,  knowing  that  I  have 
already  said  sufficient  to  excite  your  gratitude,  and  I  trust 
also  your  prayers,  that  all  my  powers,  both  of  body  and  soul, 
may  be  entirely  consecrated  to  the  service  and  glory  of  our 
blessed  Redeemer.  I  do  feel  that  this  is  only  a  reprieve — 
that  death  is  not  at  all  distanced  by  it — that  the  sentence 
may  soon  go  out  against  me,  to  render  up  the  feeble  tenure 
of  life ;  but  I  also  hope  that  "  for  me  to  live  it  may  be 
Christ,  and  to  die  gain."  I  am  now  reading  Sallust. 
When  shall  I  begin  Greek  ?  I  am  studying  under  the  direc 
tion  of  Mr.  Munroe,  the  Preceptor  of  our  Academy,  and  am 
much  pleased  with  him  ;  still  I  want  your  brotherly  advice 
and  supervision  in  this  as  well  as  every  other  respect  as  much 
as  ever. 

The  interval  of  improved  health  here  referred  to, 
was  nobly  employed,  yielding  to  all  his  friends  a 
satisfactory,  and  yet  melancholy  proof,  of  what  he 
might  have  attained  in  the  way  of  mental  discipline 
and  culture,  had  it  pleased  God  to  give  a  longer  "  re 
prieve"  from  his  depressing  malady.  This  encourag 
ing  improvement,  and  the  opportunity  it  gave  him  for 
study,  and  the  use  of  his  faculties,  he  notices  with 
gratitude  in  his  private  religious  journal,  wherein 
entries  are  still  made  from  time  to  time : 

Hallow  ell,  February  10*A,  1833. 
Sabbath  afternoon. — It   is  several   months   since  I  have 


OF    NATHANIEL    CHEEVER,    M.D.  75 

written  anything  in  this  journal — to  erect  any  memento  of 
the  manner  in  which  I  have  spent  the  transitory  hours  of  my 
existence.  Of  course  some  change  must  have  taken  place  in 
my  character  since  the  last  date.  Whether  for  the  better  or 
worse  remains  to  be  said.  In  a  spiritual  sense,  I  have  not 
made  that  decided  improvement  which  ought  always  to  be 
manifest.  I  can  hardly  tell  whether  I  have  retrograded  or 
advanced.  There  is  not  that  vigor  and  earnestness  in  my 
devotional  exercises  with  which  they  ought  always  to  be  cha 
racterized  ;  and  there  is  not  that  exemplary  walk  and  conver 
sation  which  ought  always  to  accompany  a  Christian  profes 
sion,  and  which  will  always  render  conspicuous  a  devoted  dis 
ciple  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

I  have  made,  to  be  sure,  some  progress  in  intellectual  pur 
suits,  and  in  the  discipline  of  my  mind.  But  of  what  avail 
is  this  with  God,  unless,  together  with  it,  there  is  a  resolution, 
and  a  fulfilment  of  the  resolution,  to  devote  and  consecrate 
all  my  powers,  both  of  body  and  mind,  to  the  service  and 
glory  of  my  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  I  do  feel  that 
there  is  no  other  object  really  worth  living  for,  than  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  promotion  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom. 
And  by  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  his  powerful  assist 
ance,  I  will ;  and  I  hereby  do  resolve  to  live  more  according  to 
the  will  of  God,  and  not  according  to  the  will  of  the  flesh — 
that  constant  foe  to  all  spirituality. 

If  I  would  win,  I  must  fight ;  if  I  would  obtain  that 
"  crown  of  glory,  which  fadeth  not  away,  eternal  in  the 
heavens,"  I  must  strive  for  it ;  I  must  do  violence  to  myself ; 
must  despise  the  light  and  insignificant  objects  of  the  world, 
for  which  the  majority  of  its  inhabitants  are  vainly  striving, 
and  make  it  the  supreme  and  ruling  object  of  my  existence  to 
obtain  that  which  is  incorruptible  ;  and  to  attain  this,  I  must 
sacrifice  all  inferior  objects,  which  in  any  way  interfere  with 
its  attainment.  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven  suffereth  violence, 
and  the  violent  taketh  it  by  force."  "  Must  I  be  carried  to 


76  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

the  sides  on  flowery  beds  of  ease?'1  No!  And  if!  ever 
mean  to  realize  that  blessedness  which  they  only  experience 
who  have  overcome,  and  have  "  washed  their  robes,  and 
made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,"  I  must 
break  up  these  habits  of  spiritual  sloth  and  inactivity,  and 
fight,  not  uncertainly,  as  one  that  beateth  the  air.  Let  me 
be  up,  and  strive  and  watch  unto  prayer,  that  for  me  to 
live  it  may  be  Christ,  and  to  die  gain.  Help  me  to  do  this, 
0  Lord. 

March  31s£,  Sabbath  afternoon. — It  seems  hardly  possible 
that  I  can  be  seventeen  years  of  age.  Six  anniversaries  of 
my  birth  have  come  and  gone,  and  still  found  me  under  the 
influence  of  disease.  I  am  still  oppressed  with  a  weight  of 
bodily  infirmity  which  paralyzes  my  activity,  and  prostrates 
my  physical  energy  continually.  But  the  language  of  my 
heart  should  still  be  :  "  The  Lord  gave,  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away,  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

Though  my  birth-day  has  found  me  in  a  feeble  state  of 
bodily  health,  yet,  since  my  last,  I  have  been  able  to  study 
more  than  in  any  year  since  I  have  been  sick.  This  is  a 
great  mercy,  and  I  would  joyfully  record  it  as  such.  I  have 
much  to  lament  in  reviewing  my  life  the  past  year.  Have 
not  set  that  holy  example  to  them  that  are  without,  and  to  all 
about  me,  which  it  is  manifestly  my  duty  to  do.  But  the 
only  real  good  which  a  retrospection  can  do  is  to  warn  me  to 
do  better  for  the  future. 

April  I4th,  1833,  Sabbath  afternoon. — Have  enjoyed  con 
siderable  freedom  in  prayer  to-day.  My  feelings  do  not  seem 
to  be  in  a  very  excitable  state.  But  I  think  I  may  say,  I 
have  as  firm  and  unchangeable  an  interest  in  the  cause  of 
my  Redeemer  as  at  any  period  of  my  religious  experience. 
But  I  shall  not  look  much  at  past  emotions  and  alter 
nations  of  feeling  ;  for,  as  Henry  Martyn  said,  "  It  may  rot 
in  my  hand."  I  feel  an  earnest  determination  to  serve  the 
Lord  through  evil  report  and  through  good  report ;  but  I  do 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVEK,    M.D.  TY 

not  have  those  lively  views  of  my  Saviour,  and  of  his  unut 
terable  love,  which  I  might  enjoy. 

August  1  [tk. — Nearly  three  months  have  elapsed  since  I 
last  wrote.  My  bodily  health  has,  for  the  greater  part  of  the 
time,  been  very  feeble.  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  much 
prospect  of  my  final  restoration  to  firm  health.  I  have  so 
long  hoped,  and  expected  a  recovery,  and  as  often  been  dis 
appointed,  that  it  seems  now  almost  u  hope  against  hope." 
I  have,  for  three  months  past,  been  trying  the  effect  of  living 
without  animal  food,  tea,  and  coffee.  It  reduced  my  strength 
at  first  very  much,  but  I  have  now  got  accustomed  to  it.  1 
do  not  think  I  have  been  much  better  for  it.  My  strength  is 
not  so  great  as  it  used  to  be  on  my  former  diet.  My  health 
is  more  feeble  this  summer,  on  the  whole,  than  it  was  last. 
But  whatever  may  be  the  event  of  this  trial,  I  hope  to  be  re 
signed  to  it.  "  Pleasing  or  painful,  dark  or  bright,  as  best 
may  seem  to  thee." 

I  intend  to  go  somewhat  on  Mr.  Abbott's  plan  of  a  journal, 
which  he  recommends  in  his  Young  Christian — make  it  in 
some  measure  a  mental  as  well  as  a  spiritual  exercise.  I  am 
reading  attentively  Smellie's  Natural  Philosophy.  Have  ad 
vanced  to  the  one  hundred  and  second  page.  Read  a  few 
pages  in  the  afternoon,  and  find  it  very  interesting  and  in 
structive.  Am  also  reading  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets, 
which  1  have  been  about  these  six  months.  But  in  the  mean 
time,  have  read  some  other  books,  and  had  the  Lives  as  a  stand 
by.  Have  got  as  far  as  Pope's  life,  which  I  am  now  reading. 

September  2d,  1833. — Have  enjoyed  reading  the  Bible  and 
prayer.  Oh !  that  I  might  be  enabled  henceforward  to  live 
no  longer  according  to  the  course  of  this  world,  but  accord 
ing  to  my  covenant  engagements,  and  to  the  plain  directions 
of  the  gospel.  My  covenant  engagements  !  how  have  I  vio 
lated  them  !  Indeed,  how  would  an  impartial  observer 
know  that  I  was  under  any  such  obligations.  I  was  pleased 
with  a  part  of  a  sentence  the  other  day,  that  it  is  possible 


78  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

not  to  be  conformed  to  this  world  in  many  things,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  "  not  to  be  transformed  by  the  renewing  of 
our  mind."  I  am  not  conformed  to  the  world  in  many 
things ;  but  what  very  decided  evidence  do  I  furnish  to  the 
world  around  me  of  being  a  disciple  of  the  meek  and  lowly 
Jesus  ?  But  meagre  evidence,  indeed — evidence  which  would 
hardly  outweigh  the  numberless  deficiencies  that  everywhere 
appear. 

Resolutions  which  I  have  made,  have  hitherto  been  carried 
into  effect  with  so  little  energy,  that  it  seems  almost  like 
adding  new  guilt  to  make  any  new  ones  ;  but  having  lately 
had  experience  of  the  bitterness  and  malignity  of  sin,  and 
prayed  earnestly  to  the  Lord  for  deliverance  from  it,  and  for 
strength  to  resist  temptation,  I  do  hereby,  in  general,  resolve, 
to  live  nearer  to  God,  to  maintain  a  constant  sense  of  his 
presence,  and  of  my  dependence  upon  him  and  duty  to  him. 
In  particular,  to  aim  at  constant  purity  of  life  and  conversa 
tion,  thought,  word,  and  deed.  To  be  careful  how  unwarrant 
ably  and  unnecessarily  I  say  or  do  anything  which  may  be 
in  any  way  construed  to  the  injury  of  others.  To  fix  my 
thoughts  more  upon  God,  and  exercise  a  more  lively  gratitude 
to  him  upon  first  awaking  in  the  morning.  To  be  as  eco 
nomical  as  possible  of  my  time,  and  try  to  improve  it  all  in  a 
profitable  and  useful  manner.  To  think  of,  and  try  to  imitate 
the  life  of  my  adorable  Saviour.  To  meditate  much  upon  his 
infinite  sufferings  and  death,  and  therefrom  upon  the  awful 
guilt,  malignity,  and  vileness  of  sin.  Always  to  perform  duty 
whenever  it  appears  to  be  such,  with  humble  obedience  and 
fidelity.  To  be  temperate  and  strive  for  the  mastery  in  all 
things.  And  thou,  0  Holy  Spirit,  who  art  the  author  of  all 
filial  and  acceptable  obedience,  help  me  to  do  all  these,  and 
more  also,  yea,  all  which  it  is  my  duty  to  do,  and  to  do  it  with 
joy  and  delight.  Amen. 

October  13£A,  1833. — Have  solemnly  renewed  my  covenant 
with  Grod.  I  trust  it  is  by  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVEB,    M.D.  79 

that  I  first  made  it,  and  that  I  have  now  renewed  it ;  and  may 
he  help  me  to  live  and  die  according  to  the  tenor  of  this 
solemn  engagement  once  made  and  twice  or  more  renewed. 
I  have  enjoyed  this  Sabbath  very  much.  I  hope  it  is  the  be 
ginning  of  good  things  to  my  soul ;  the  commencement  of  a 
course  of  holy  living,  which  may  be  pursued  and  continued 
till  it  terminates  hore  in  a  holy  and  triumphant  death  ;  after 
which  this  spiritual  life,  begun  and  persevered  in  to  the  close 
of  this  mortal  career,  shall  be  carried  on  in  that  heavenly 
state,  where  nothing  shall  enter  "which  in  any  wise  defileth,  or 
worketh  abomination,  or  maketh  a  lie  ;"  where  those  who  are 
so  inconceivably  happy  as  to  attain  to  that  blessed  state,  will 
enjoy  the  company  of  angels,  and  patriarchs,  and  apostles, 
and  martyrs,  who  have  sealed  their  testimony  to  the  truth  with 
their  own  blood,  and  of  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect. 

There  shall  the  clouds  of  sense  and  sin  be  forever  dissipated. 
There  shall  be  no  need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon  to 
.shine  in  it ;  for  the  glory  of  God  shall  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb 
shall  be  the  light  thereof.  We  shall  have  left  behind  us  all 
our  sorrows  and  imperfections,  and  sinful  inclinations,  in  the 
grave  which  receives  our  bodies  ;  they  shall  not  rise  at  the 
resurrection  with  our  bodies,  but  there  shall  they  remain  to 
all  eternity.  There  shall  our  intellects  be  expanded  to  a  degree 
now  almost  inconceivable  to  our  finite  minds.  There  we 
shall  dwell  forever  in  the  ineffable  light  of  God's  countenance, 
and  sing  forever  that  rapturous  song,  "  Blessing  and  honor, 
and  glory,  and  power  be  unto  Him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne, 
and  unto  the  Lamb,  for  ever  and  ever."  Baxter,  indeed,  truly 
says,  "  Oh !  blessed  state  of  rest,  where  the  inhabitants  rest 
not  day  nor  night  saying,  Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  God  Al 
mighty,  which  was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come."  May  I,  through 
the  infinite  mercy  of  God,  and  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  the  fellowship  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  be  at  last  ad 
mitted  to  the  unutterable  fruition  of  that  blessed  world. 
Amen. 


80  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 


November  15£A,  1833.  —  This  day  three  years  did  I  solemnly 
and  unreservedly  dedicate  myself  to  the  Lord,  to  be  his  for 
time  and  eternity.  I  have,  most  surely,  on  my  own  part, 
forfeited  all  the  blessings  of  this  covenant  by  my  wilful  trans 
gressions  and  wanderings  from  God.  But  let  me,  oh  !  let  me 
adore  the  matchless  love  which  still  invites  me  to  come  and 
subscribe  with  my  own  hand  unto  the  Lord  ;  that  I  am  on 
praying  ground  ;  that  I  am  not,  where  I  so  truly  deserve  to  be 
in  the  world  of  despair.  And  I  would  this  day,  oh!  Lord, 
show  unto  thee  my  gratitude  for  thy  infinite  love,  by  giving 
myself  again  away  to  thee  by  a  new  and  living  covenant,  well 
ordered  in  all  things  and  sure.  And  help  me  to  do  so  with 
all  sincerity  and  solemnity. 

It  is  to  "be  remarked  here,  that,  for  a  long  period  of 
years,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  keeping  the  anniversary 
of  his  dedication  as  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer  ;  which 
habit  he  found  of  signal  benefit  in  the  process  of  self- 
mortification  and  inurement  of  his  soul  to  the  Divine 
life.  This  chapter  of  the  memorials  of  youth  has  car 
ried  him  on  to  sanguine  seventeen.  That  the  reader 
may  be  informed  more  particularly  respecting  the 
pursuits,  studies,  and  intellectual  progress  of  that  year, 
we  add  certain  portions  of  a  letter  written  at  this  time 
to  his  eldest  brother. 

When  some  time  since  I  arranged,  in  chronological  order, 
the  letters  I  have  received  from  various  persons,  I  found  how 
largely  you  are  my  creditor  in  this  respect,  so  much  so  that  I 
shall  in  the  outset  be  compelled  to  declare  myself  insolvent 
as  to  ever  returning  the  full  value  of  your  inestimable  epis 
tles.  Though,  possibly,  I  may  repay  in  "  full  tale,"  as  to 
actual  number,  yet  the  comparative  baseness  of  my  coin  will 
probably  always  leave  me  your  debtor  to  a  large  amount. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEK,    M.D.  81 

But  as  long  as  you  appear  to  have  so  large  a  capital,  and  are 
so  easy  a  creditor,  I  shall  not  stop  payment,  but  shall  con 
sider  myself  as  doing  well  if  I  pay  only  six  per  cent,  interest 
on  the  intrinsic  value  of  your  epistolary  fund. 

Bodily  indisposition  and  disease  still  continue  to  paralyze 
the  energies  of  my  physical  system,  and  fetter  the  purposes 
of  my  mind.  But  niaugre  this  great  affliction,  I  have  un 
numbered  and  undeserved  mercies,  which  ought  to  excite  the 
most  sincere  gratitude  and  thankful  acknowledgment,  and 
lead  to  unreserved  devotion  to  their  bountiful  author.  It  is, 
I  think,  the  prevailing  disposition  of  my  mind  to  be  uncon 
ditionally  resigned  to  this  and  every  ordination  of  his  will, 
"  who  cannot  do  but  what  is  just,  and  must  be  righteous 
still." 

You  say  in  your  last  letter  to  me,  "  that  you  hope  I  am 
living  in  a  close  walk  with  God,  and  praying  much  for  you." 
As  to  the  first  part  of  the  clause,  I  should  come  nearer  the 
truth  than  by  any  other  answer,  to  say,  that  I  was  not ;  but 
as  to  the  latter  part,  my  conscience  beareth  me  witness  that 
"  I  do  not  cease  to  pray  for  you,  that  you  may  walk  worthy 
of  the  Lord  unto  all  pleasing,  being  fruitful  in  every  good 
work,  and  strengthened  with  all  might  according  to  his  glori 
ous  power."  You  wish  me  to  write  a  letter  telling  all  about 
my  health  and  life,  and  how  things  are  going  on  within  my 
own  soul. 

The  last  I  consider  most  important,  and  shall,  accordingly, 
mention  it  first ;  and  though  I  cannot  communicate  such  joy 
ful  intelligence  under  this  head  as  you  would  wish,  and  as  I 
ought  to  be  able  to,  yet  I  can  sincerely  say  that  I  think 
things  are  going  on  more  prosperously  now  than  they  were 
some  time  ago.  As  to  my  health,  I  have  said  -all,  perhaps, 
that  is  necessary  to  say.  I  study  when  able,  or  not  obliged 
to  take  exercise. 

I  am  reading  in  the  Greek  Reader  and  Sallust.     I  admire 

the  Greek.     Write  Greek  occasionally,  and  Latin  also.     My 
4* 


82  MEMOKIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

studies  are  very  much  interrupted  by  ill  health,  so  that  my 
progress  is  rather  slow.  I  read  considerable.  I  have,  at 
length,  finished  the  Lives  of  the  Poets.  Do  you  not  congra 
tulate  me  ?  Such  an  event,  I  think,  truly  deserves  record. 
I  have  fixed  a  common-place  book  on  Mr.  Locke's  plan — in 
serted  a  number  of  extracts,  and  think  I  shall  find  it  very 
useful.  I  have  begun  the  elegant  edition  of  Milton  you  so 
kindly  sent  me.  My  gratitude  is  most  sincere  for  this,  and 
every  other  expression  of  love  you  have  so  affectionately  sent 
me. 

Mr.  S.  seems  to  wax  stronger  and  stronger.  His  sermons 
are  truly  grand.  He  preached  two  last  Sabbath,  which  I 
wish  you  could  read,  from  the  text,  John  i.  29  :  "  Behold  the 
Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world  !"  I 
had  the  happiness  of  hearing  them  both.  But,  oh,  the  hap 
piness  of  seeing  always  by  faith  the  Lamb  of  God.  Never 
theless,  I  will  trust  him  where  I  cannot  trace  him,  saying  with 
Newton  : 

If  to  Jesus  for  relief 

My  soul  has  fled  by  prayer, 
Why  should  I  give  way  to  grief, 

Or  heart-consuming  case  ? 
Are  not  all  things  in  his  hands  ? 
Has  he  not  his  promise  pass'd? 
Will  he  then  regardless  stand. 

And  let  me  sink  at  last  ? 

If  he  shed  his  precious  blood 

To  bring  me  to  his'fold, 
Can  I  think  that  meaner  good 

He  ever  will  withhold  ! 
Satan,  vain  is  thy  device  ! 
Here  my  hope  rests  well  assur'd, 
In  that  great  redemption-price, 

I  see  the  whole  secur'd. 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVER,    M.D.  83 


CHAPTEK   IV. 

WAY-MAKES    OF   INTELLECTUAL   AND   MOEAL   PEOaEESS. 

Whose  high  endeavors  are  an  inward  light, 
That  makes  the  path  before  him  always  bright ; 
Who,  with  a  natural  instinct  to  discern. 
What  knowledge  can  perform,  is  diligent  to  learn ; 
Abides  by  this  resolve,  and  stops  not  there, 
But  makes  his  moral  being  his  prime  care. 

ANON. 

As  we  have  already  seen,  the  chief  concern  of  the 
subject  of  this  biography  always  was,  himself  to 
grow  in  goodness  and  to  be  doing  good.  From  an 
early  age,  his  own  moral  well-being,  and  that  of  his 
fellows,  was  evermore  his  prime  care.  When,  through 
the  grace  of  God,  he  was  living  so  as  to  secure  this, 
he  was  happy.  When,  in  his  daily  life,  he  failed  of 
this,  he  was  unhappy.  ]STot  with  standing  that  his  life 
hitherto,  has  been,  to  an  unusual  degree,  a  suffering 
life,  we  have  found,  also,  that  it  has  been  a  happy 
life,  because  it  has  aimed  to  be  a  holy  life.  All  truo 
Christian  experience  confirms  this. 

The  truth  that  in  God's  Word  we  find, 

Experience  enhances — 
That  happiness  is  in  the  mind, 

And  not  in  circumstances. 


84  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

'Tis  only  by  a  will  resigned 

To  God,  that  good  advances  ; 
His  grace  alone  within  the  mind 

Can  govern  circumstances. 

On  the  evening  of  the  Lord's  day,  Nov.  24th,  1833, 
when  confined  at  his  Mother's  by  illness  within  doors, 
we  find  him  making  this  entry  in  his  private  religious 
journal : 

I  have  had  a  pleasant  and,  I  hope,  profitable  day  at  home. 
Since  I  last  wrote,  the  annual  festival  of  Thanksgiving  has 
been  celebrated.  Truly,  it  might  well  be  a  Thanksgiving  with 
us.  The  mercies  of  God  are  unspeakably  great,  and  have 
been  for  the  whole  of  our  lives.  Oh  !  what  ardent,  heartfelt, 
constant  gratitude  it  should  excite,  that  we  are  all  permitted 
to  indulge  the  blessed  hope  that  we  are  partakers  in  the  salva 
tion  which  Christ  has  procured  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself;  the 
hope  that  the  union  which  now  exists  on  earth  shall  never  be 
broken,  but  cemented  and  perpetuated  forever  in  the  heavenly 
world.  Blessed,  forever  blessed  be  thy  name,  0  Lord,  that 
thou  hast  thus  inclined  our  hearts  to  thyself,  while  others  have 
been  left  to  follow  the  way  of  their  own  hearts.  I  must  strive 
earnestly  against  pride  and  vanity,  and,  in  lowliness  of  mind, 
esteem  others  better  than  myself. 

December  1st,  1833. — I  have  just  finished  the  "  Young 
Christian."  Let  me  strive  that  the  instruction  I  have  received 
from  this  excellent  book  may  be  well  digested  in  my  mind, 
and  treasured  up  in  my  heart,  and  brought  into  practice  in  my 
life.  I  must  strive  for  more  ardor  in  prayer,  a  stronger  love 
to  Christ,  and  a  more  intense  anxiety  for  immortal  souls.  I 
am  reading  ''Baxter's  Call  to  the  Unconverted."  It  is  a 
powerful  and  heart-searching  work.  I  read  partly  that  I  may 
be  able  to  speak  of  it  from  actual  experience,  as  I  intend  to 
lend  it  when  I  have  finished  it.  I  must  read  not  only  for 
intellectual  pleasure,  but  for  spiritual  improvement. 


M.D.  85 

This  is  the  first  day  of  the  last  month  of  the  year.  How 
swiftly  time  flies !  0  Lord,  help  me  to  be  'diligently  preparing 
myself  for  a  blissful  eternity ;  to  be  daily  living  that  spiritual 
life,  which  must  be  begun  on  earth  in  order  to  be  enjoyed  in 
heaven.  Let  me  spend  this  month  in  such  a  manner,  live  in 
such  intimate  communion  with  God,  and  fellowship  with  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  I  shall  gain  an  impetus  which  shall 
be  felt  through  the  coming  year. 

December  2lst.  Sabbath  afternoon. — Have  been  detained 
from  public  service,  both  on  account  of  illness  and  a  snow 
storm.  Have  been  engaged  in  reading  the  Bible,  Baxter's 
Call,  and  prayer.  May  I,  the  coming  year,  be  more  holy  and 
exemplary  in  my  daily  walk,  conversation,  and  deportment, 
than  I  have  ever  yet  been,  and  accomplish  more  mental  labor 
than  any  year  has  before  witnessed.  My  pride  and  vanity,  of 
late,  have  been  very  prominent.  What  unbecoming  sins  they 
are !  that  such  a  worm  as  I  should  exalt  myself  in  my  own 
esteem ;  how  unbefitting !  How  much  more  rational  and  bc- 
cominor  the  lowliness  of  mind  to  regard  all  others  as  better 

O  O 

than  myself.  Let  me  so  do,  and  strive  continually  against 
these  besetting  sins. 

Sabbath  afternoon,  January  5th,  1834. — This  is  Commu 
nion  Sabbath,  and  the  third  anniversary  of  my  solemn  profes 
sion  of  my  faith  in  Christ,  and  public  union  with  the  church. 
It  is  an  interesting  day,  and  I  wished  very  much  to  attend  its 
solemn  services,  but  I  have  enjoyed  the  day  at  home  in  read 
ing  and  prayer,  and  renewing  my  covenant  with  God. 

I  still  continue  to  be  afflicted  with  disease  of  body,  and  Grod 
only  knows  whether  I  shall  ever  be  free  from  it.  I  rejoice  to 
leave  it  with  Him  ;  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  cannot  but  do 
right.  I  want  to  have  stronger,  more  irrepressible  desires  for 
the  conversion  of  immortal  souls.  Oh!  that  there  might  be  a 
powerful  revival  of  pure  and  undefiled  religion  in  this  place, 
that  thousands,  yea,  thousands  might  here  be  awakened  from 
the  lethargy  of  sin,  and  born  into  the  kingdom  of  holiness  and 


00  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

of  God.  0  Lord,  in  mercy  pour  out  thy  Spirit,  and  awaken 
thine  own  people  to  more  earnest  and  persevering  prayer,  and 
faithful  effort  for  the  salvation  of  perishing  souls.  And  help 
me  to  set  such  an  example,  and  perform  my  duty  so  faithfully, 
as  will  tend  to  promote  this  blessed  end. 

January  2Qth,  Sabbath  evening. — I  am  often  detained  from 
meeting  with  the  people  of  God,  but,  oh  !  that  I  might  make 
an  improving,  edifying  use  of  the  eminent  opportunities  and 
privileges  I  so  abundantly,  but  undeservedly  enjoy  at  home. 

1  have  not  improved  as  I  ought  the  affliction  which  Grod  still 
sees  fit  to  continue  upon  me,  doubtless   for  my  best  good. 
Yes,  I  am  still  oppressed  by  the  heavy  hand  of  disease,  and 
He,  who  sees  this  trial,  only  knows  when  it  will  be  removed. 
But  one  thing  do  I  desire  of  the  Lord ;  that  will  I  seek  after ; 
that  it  may  be  sanctified  unto  me      0  Lord,  I  do  beseech  thee 
to  make  it  the  instrument  of  chastening  and  purifying  my 
heart  and  life.     May  it  wean  me  from  the  world,  from  every 
earthly  dependence  and  undue  attachment ;  dissolve  every  for 
bidden  tie ;  quicken  me  in  the  performance  of  every  duty,  and 
make  me  feel  my  nearness  to  eternity,  and  constant  liability 
to  death ;  subdue  my  selfishness ;  make  me  kind,  gentle,  easy 
to  be   entreated,  to  feel  more  my  entire   dependence  upon 
Christ ;  and,  finally,  may  it  make  me  holier  and  better  in  every 
possible  respect. 

Truly,  the  evening  and  morning  are  witnesses  to  the  tender 
care  and  loving  kindness  of  God.  I  hear  the  roar  and  din  of 
the  storm,  but  I  do  not  feel  its  inclemency.  I  am  protected 
by  a  comfortable  shelter  from  the  severity  of  every  season 
Prevented  from  walking  abroad,  I  have  the  pleasant  society 
of  kind  relatives  and  friends  at  home  ;  the  Holy  Bible  to  read 
and  ponder  upon ;  the  opportunity  to  peruse  the  works  of 
other  authors,  and,  more  than  all,  the  blessed  privilege  of 
prayer.  Oh !  what  unspeakable,  undeserved  goodness  and 
love !  Let  these,  and  all  other  mercies,  0  Lord,  be  improved 
by  me  in  such  a  manner  as  they  ought,  and  may  I  ever  re- 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVEE,    M.D.  87 

member  that  "  unto  whom  much  is  given,  of  him  will  much 
be  required." 

February  16tk,  1834. — "  Truly,  my  flesh  faileth  of  fatness, 
my  bones  stare  upon  me."  The  springs  of  life  and  health  are 
constantly  drained  by  the  disease  which  still  cleaveth  fast  to 
me,  and  I  know  not  that  there  is  any  well-grounded  hope  that 
I  shall  ever  be  delivered  from  its  power;  but  that  innate  prin 
ciple  of  hope,  which  so  tenaciously  holds  its  place  in  the  human 
breast,  still  lingers  in  miue.  Yet  I  hope  I  am  prepared  by 
the  grace  of  God  for  the  worst,  let  it  be  what  it  may.  Oh ! 
that  I  may  be  purified  in  the  furnace  of  affliction,  as  gold  tried 
in  the  fire.  If  the  vile  dross  of  sin  which  debases  my  soul 
could  be  burnt  away,  it  would  be  worth  while  to  suffer  vastly 
more  than  I  have  endured,  for  the  attainment  of  such  an  end. 

This  period  and  the  ensuing  summer  were  a  season  of 
uncommon  feebleness  and  pining  under  disease.  It  be 
gan  to  be  clear  that  the  powers  of  life  were  waning,  and 
that  constitutional  treatment,  of  a  different  kind  from 
that  adopted  hitherto,  must  be  resorted  to,  if  we  would 
not  lose  entirely  our  "brightest  household  flower." 
In  the  summer  of  1834  he  travelled  by  private  convey 
ance,  with  his  eldest  brother,  through  the  Is'otch  of  the 
White  Mountains  to  Saratoga  Springs.  But  the  ex 
periment  was  without  benefit  to  his  health,  and  he 
returned  drooping  after  a  suffering  summer. 

The  first  entry  in  his  Journal  after  his  return  to  his 
native  Kennebec,  is  in  October  26th,  1834. 

During  the  last  four  months  I  have  been  in  company  with 
my  dear  brother  George  to  Saratoga  Springs,  and  after  a 
residence  there  of  about  five  weeks,  we  started  on  our  return, 
and  having  stopped  a  few  days  in  Boston,  and  ten  days  in 
Salem,  we  arrived  in  safety  at  our  beloved  home,  having  been 
absent  between  eleven  and  twelve  weeks.  We  (and  myself 


88  MEMOKIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

in  particular)  were  preserved  from  very  many  dangers,  seen 
and  unseen — delivered  out  of  considerable  trial  and  per 
plexity  by  the  kind  and  ever-watchful  care  and  guidance 
of  our  God.  We  saw  on  our  journey  great  and  abundant 
evidence,  in  the  works  of  nature,  of  the  almighty  power, 
wisdom,  and  goodness  of  the  Great  Architect  and  Up 
holder  of  the  universe.  I  certainly  ought  to  be  benefited 
by  the  glorious  displays  of  these  glorious  attributes  which  I 
have  witnessed.  I  hope  I  have  learned  a  little  more  the 
meaning  of  faith  in  God — of  trusting  in  him  when  things 
look  dark — when  the  way  of  escape  seems  to  be  hedged  up, 
and  all  expectation  of  relief  must  be  from  Him  ;  for  we  were 
once  placed  in  a  situation  and  circumstances  where  such  faith 
was  required. 

Now  that  the  Lord  has  so  mercifully  brought  me  once  more 
to  my  native  and  much-loved  home,  and  permits  me  to  enjoy 
again  the  society  of  my  dear  Mother  and  sister,  Oh  !  may 
he  also  give  me  strength  in  my  soul  to  love  him  more  and 
serve  him  better  than  I  have  ever  yet  done. 

My  health  is  not  materially  improved  by  this  new  expedient 
for  its  restoration  ;  for  it  does  not  yet  seem  to  be  the  Lord's 
will  to  restore  me  to  the  possession  of  it ;  and  until  it  is  his 
will,  I  shall  not  enjoy  it  perfectly.  His  holy  will  be  done. 
"  O,  my  Father,  if  this  cup  may  not  yet  pass  from  me  except 
I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done." 

Sabbath  evening,  Nov.  \Qth. — I  yesterday  solemnly  re 
newed  my  covenant  with  God,  being  its  fourth  anniversary. 
I  observed  the  day  by  fasting  and  uncommon  prayer.  I  have 
experienced  unspeakable  mercy  and  goodness  at  the  Lord's 
hand  during  the  last  year.  Have  been  brought  safely  through 
much  danger  and  trial,  and  permitted  in  circumstances  of 
much  comfort  and  happiness,  notwithstanding  all  my  sinful 
ness  and  guilt,  that  might  justly  have  provoked  the  Lord  to 
the  withdrawal  of  his  gracious  protection,  to  behold  another 
of  the  anniversaries  of  my  covenant  engagements  with  God. 


OF   NATHANIEL    CIIEEVER,    M.D.  1 

The  past  year  is  indeed  blotted  with  sin,  but  I  humbly  hope  I 
have  made  some  progress  heavenward. 

I  have  had  the  privilege  to-day  of  hearing  two  most  elevat 
ing,  excellent,  and  instructive  sermons  from  our  beloved  pas 
tor,  Mr.  Shepard,  on  the  text,  1  Cor.  x.  11  :  "  Now  all  these 
things  happened  unto  them  for  ensamples,  and  they  are  writ 
ten  for  our  admonition,  upon  whom  the  ends  of  the  world  are 
come."  He  illustrated  the  course  of  the  Christian  in  his 
way  to  heaven,  by  the  journey  of  the  Israelites  from  the  land 
of  Egypt  to  that  of  Canaan.  The  analogy  was  most  happily 
carried  out,  and  concluded  by  practical  remarks  to  impenitent 
binners  and  to  Christians.  These  sermons  were  indeed  a  rich 
spiritual  feast,  and  ought  to  be  improved  to  the  growth  in 
grace,  and  edification  of  the  professed  disciples  of  Christ. 
May  these  instructions  be  blessed  to  me,  and  I  be  assisted  by 
the  strength  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  my  pilgrimage  to  the 
heavenly  Canaan,  to  resist  all  the  temptations  of  the  Great 
Adversary  of  souls,  and  get  safely  through  all  the  snares  and 
pitfalls  which  lie  in  my  passage  to  that  blessed  land. 

November  23d,  1834,  Sabbath  afternoon. — I  have  been  en 
gaged  principally  in  reading  the  Bible,  Leighton,  and  prayer. 
I  have  remembered,  and  tried  to  repent  and  be  ashamed  in 
view  of  my  past  sins  and  iniquities,  for  which  I  hope  the  Lord 
is  pacified  towards  me.  If  the  sum  of  my  sins  is  so  great  in 
my  sight,  what  must  it  be  in  the  sight  of  an  All-seeing  God, 
who  can  at  a  glance  scan  all  the  sins  of  my  past  and  present 
life — Of  thought,  word,  and  deed  !  How  wonderful!  how  in 
finite  is  the  forbearance  and  goodness  of  God  towards  one  who 
has  forfeited,  as  I  have,  all  claims  to  his  favorable  notice. 

I  have  now  no  male  friend  with  whom  I  can  converse  inti 
mately  upon  spiritual,  or  indeed  upon  any  subjects.  My 
dear  brother  George  being  engaged  in  his  pastoral  duties  at 
Salem  ;  H.  at  Andover,  preparing  for  the  gospel  ministry  ; 
and  Mr.  Goodwin,  also,  who  was  for  two  years  a  member  of 
our  family,  at  the  same  place  pursuing  his  theological  studies 


90  MEMORIALS    OF    THE    LIFE 

I  am  indeed  quite  alone  in  this  respect.  But  do  thou,  O 
blessed  Saviour,  compensate,  and  more  than  compensate  for 
this  deprivation  of  the  society  of  earthly  friends,  by  the  abun 
dant,  cheering  manifestations  of  thy  presence  and  love.  0, 
swallow  up  my  soul  in  thy  love,  and  manifest  thyself  unto  me 
as  thou  dost  not  unto  the  world,  and  transform  me  more  and 
more  into  thine  own  image  ;  thus  shall  I  enjoy  happiness 
which  it  is  in  the  power  of  no  earthly  friend  to  impart. 

December  1th. — I  am  endeavoring  to  know  the  will  of  the 
Lord  in  regard  to  the  adoption  and  success  of  another  expe 
dient  for  the  restoration  of  my  health,  namely,  a  voyage  to, 
and  residence  for  some  time  at  Malaga,  in  the  south  of  Spain. 
Dr.  Hubbard,  a  skilful  physician  of  this  place,  thinks  such  a 
measure  might  be  crowned  with  success.  But,  surely,  I  do 
not  desire  to  spend  any  more  time  in  the  adoption  and  fruitless 
pursuit  of  measures  for  the  improvement  or  recovery  of  my 
health.  It  seems  better,  if  this  blessing  is  denied  me,  so  long 
as  I  continue  a  tenant  of  this  body  (if  thus  it  seemeth  good  to 
the  Lord),  to  remain  in  my  own  country  ;  cultivate,  as  far  as 
the  state  of  my  feeble  tabernacle  permits,  the  faculties  of  my 
mind ;  do  what  good  I  can  ;  enjoy,  during  the  attacks  of  my 
disorder,  the  kiud  offices  of  my  beloved  Mother  and  sister,  and 
their  endearing  society ;  and  when  the  time  arrives  for  the 
separation  of  this  immortal  soul  from  its  frail  and  mortal  com 
panion,  to  die  among  my  own  kindred,  and  leave  this  body  to 
return  to  the  dust  as  it  was,  but  with  the  blessed  hope  of  a 
happy  reunion  with  it  on  the  morning  of  the  resurrection, 
when  "  this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality,  and  this  corrup 
tion  incorruption." 

But,  oh !  that  it  might  be  the  will  of  the  Lord  to  bless 
these  means  to  the  perfect  restoration  of  my  health  ;  that  then, 
by  his  grace  and  blessing,  I  might  prepare  for  the  Grospel 
ministry,  and  be  the  humble  instrument  of  saving  souls.  To 
thee,  0  Lord,  do  I  leave  it ;  if  it  be  thy  will  to  bless  this 
measure,  open  the  way  for  its  adoption,  and  manifest  thy  will 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEK,    M.D.  91 

by  the  indications  of  thy  Providence  too  clearly  to  be  mis 
taken.  I  would  "acknowledge  thee  in  all  my  ways,  and  do 
thou  direct  my  steps." 

In  tins  connection  a  letter  is  in  place  to  the  brother 
next  his  own  age,  in  the  course  of  which  he  says  : 

Notwithstanding  all  the  expedients  I  have  resorted  to,  the 
Lord,  in  his  infinite  wisdom,  still  sees  fit  to  withhold  from  me 
that  most  invaluable  of  temporal  blessings,  sound  health.  But 
I  think  I  can  adopt  the  language  of  our  blessed  Saviour  when 
he  prayed  in  Gethsemane  :  "  0  my  Father,  if  this  cup  may  not 
pass  away  from  me  except  I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done."  "  His 
will,  whate'er  it  be,  is  best." 

He  knows  best  the  way  to  the  heavenly  Canaan,  and  if  he 
sees  fit  that  with  me  it  should  lie  through  much  affliction,  be 
it  so  ;  the  rest  and  bliss  of  that  blessed  world,  of  which,  through 
the  grace  and  atoning  merits  of  Christ,  my  Saviour,  I  humbly 
hope  to  be  made  a  partaker,  will  not  be  the  less  sweet  for 
having  met  with  some  tribulation  on  the  way.  We  are,  and 
ought  to  feel  that  we  are,  but  strangers  and  pilgrims  here 
below,  and  it  will  be  but  a  little  while  ere  we  shall  all  be  re 
moved  from  this  world.  0  may  it  be,  with  all  of  us,  "  to  a 
city  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens." 

I  am  glad  you  have  been  examining  and  striving  to  know 
your  own  heart,  and  I  hope  you  are  now  able  to  give  to  your 
own  conscience,  and  "  to  him  that  asketh  of  you,  a  reason  for 
the  hope  which  is  in  you  with  meekness  and  fear."  I  believe 
George  once  remarked,  in  a  sermon,  something  to  this  pur 
pose  :  that  we  know  not  the  nest  of  vipers  within  our  own 
bosoms,  until  we  reached  down  and  attempted  to  grapple  with 
them.  When  we  do  this,  we  find  that  we  have  indeed  a  war 
fare,  and  a  severe  one,  too,  to  conquer  the  lusts  and  passions 
of  our  own  souls.  But,  dear  Henry,  we  are  not  alone  in  the 
warfare  ;  Jesus,  our  great  High  Priest,  "  who  is  moved  with 


92  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

a  feeling  for  our  infirmities,"  is  our  Almighty  Helper,  and  the 
more  manfully  we  strive,  so  much  the  more  will  he  exert  his 
power  in  our  behalf.  Let  us  fly  to  him,  make  him  our  all  in 
all,  and,  as  Mr.  Shepard  directed,  in  one  of  two  most  rich, 
instructive  sermons  we  had  from  him  last  Sabbath,  take  and 
keep  hold  of  his  hand  with  the  same  timidity  and  confidence 
with  which  a  child,  in  the  midst  of  a  dark  and  tangled  forest, 
surrounded  by  wild  beasts,  retains  close  hold  of  its  father's 
hand. 

You  maybe  well  assured,  dear  brother,  that  day  and  night, 
I  cease  not  to  pray  for  you,  that  you  may  be  enabled  to  profit 
eminently,  both  in  mind  and  heart,  by  the  great  opportuni 
ties  for  spiritual  and  intellectual  improvement  which  you  enjoy. 
We  feel  the  absence  of  yourself  and  George,  together  with 
the  final  departure  of  Mr.  Goodwin,  very  much,  and  as  I  now 
have  no  brother-friend  with  whom  to  commune,  it  is  not  sur 
prising  that  I  sometimes  have  a  feeling  of  dreariness,  which 
weighs  somewhat  on  my  spirits  ;  but  there  is  a  friend  that 
sticketh  closer  than  a  brother — a  resort  to  whom  is  not  con 
fined  to  time  or  place,  the  consolations  of  whose  love  and 
presence  I  think  I  enjoy. 

In  the  next  extract  from  the  private  journal,  there 
are  allusions  to  certain  occurrences  in  Salem,  Mass., 
which  being  matter  of  public  notoriety  in  connection 
with  THE  DREAM  entitled  INQUIRE  AT  AMOS  GILES 
DISTILLERY,  we  have  not  thought  it  suitable  to  sup 
press. 

Hallowell,  March  Sth,  1835. 

Since  I  last  wrote,  we,  as  a  family,  have  passed  through  a 
trial  of  our  faith  and  patience,  though  not  without  the  hope  of 
its  being  productive  of  great  good.  On  Monday,  February 
9th,  we  received  a  letter  from  my  dear  brother  George,  writ 
ten  in  an  astonishingly  calm  and  undisturbed  manner,  but 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVER,    M.D.  93 

communicating  the  intelligence  that  on  the  day  on  which  he 
wrote  (Saturday,  Feb.  7th),  he  had  been  attacked  in  the  street 
with  brutal  violence.  A  great  excitement  was  produced  in 
Salem  by  the  publication  in  the  Landmark,  of  a  powerfully- 
written  article,  illustrating,  with  a  faithfulness  terrible  to 
those  concerned  in  the  nefarious  business,  the  agency  of  the 
devil  in  the  diabolical  process  of  distillation.  George  was  the 
author  of  this  piece  and  it  gave  so  much  umbrage  to  the 
foreman  of  the  distillery,  that  he  endeavored  to  avenge  him 
self  by  a  most  savage  attack  upon  my  dear  brother's  person  ; 
but  God  most  mercifully  preserved  him  from  serious  injury  ; 
and, which  should  be  matter  of  everlasting  gratitude,  enabled 
him,  in  such  exciting  circumstances,  to  show,  in  a  wonderful 
manner,  the  spirit  of  his  heavenly  Master,  by  patiently  en 
during  the  outrage,  and  meekly  bestowing  his  own  forgive 
ness,  and  hoping  for  that  of  God  upon  his  cruel  enemy. 

The  offensive  article  has  been  extensively  copied  into  the 
newspapers,  religious  and  political,  and  has  a  very  wide  cir 
culation,  and  we  hope  will  be  instrumental  of  doing  much 
good.  It  has  awakened  his  own  church  to  more  earnestness 
in  prayer  and  faithfulness  in  the  cause  of  Christ.  It  cer 
tainly  has  caused  us  to  pray  with  uncommon  fervor  and  im 
portunity  for  dear  George.  Oh,  may  it  lead  us  to  feel  more 
entirely  the  utter  uncertainty  of  all  earthly  things — of  all 
human  dependencies. 

SaUath  afternoon,  March  2§th,  1835. — My  birth-day.  By 
the  undeserved  mercy  of  God,  I  am  this  day  permitted  to 
complete  my  nineteenth  year.  It  finds  me  still  oppressed 
with  that  most  perseveringly  obstinate  disorder — the  asthma — 
under  the  influence  of  which,  more  or  less  severe,  the  light 
of  each  successive  anniversary  of  my  birth  for  six  years  has 
found  me  suffering.  I  have  had  a  comfortable  day  at  home. 
This  afternoon  have  renewed  my  covenant  with  God  with  sin 
cerity,  I  trust,  and  a  humble  desire  to  fulfil  its  solemn  re 
quirements.  God  seems  hitherto  to  have  called  me  to  suffer 


94:  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

patiently  and  resignedly  his  will,  rather  than  to  do  it  by  any 
active  service.  Blessed  be  his  name,  I  think  I  can  say,  "  It 
is  well  ;  thy  will  be  done." 

It  is  possible  another  birth-day  I  may  be  at  Malaga.  I 
still  think  seriously  of  taking  a  voyage,  and  do  most  earnestly 
desire  that  God  would  manifest  by  his  providence,  what  is  his 
will  in  regard  to  it ;  and  whether  it  be  to  bless  it  to  my  re 
covery,  or  to  the  material  benefit  of  my  health.  If  I  should 
go  to  Malaga,  my  temptations  would  be  much  increased,  and, 
consequently,  my  need  for  watchfulness  and  prayer.  But  I 
hope,  by  the  grace  of  Christ,  that  as  my  day,  so  shall  my 
strength  be.  To  his  disposal  I  desire  to  submit  all  events, 
and  all  the  different,  and,  perhaps,  trying  circumstances 
which  the  course  of  another  year  may  place  me  in.  Last 
Sabbath,  I  finished  the  reading  Leighton's  Select  Works,  com 
piled  by  my  dear  brother  George  ;  and  what  a  rich  mine  of 
thought  and  instruction  is  therein  contained.  Great  weight  is 
added  to  the  writings  of  this  holy  man,  by  the  knowledge 
that  every  word  he  uttered  flowed  from  his  own  experience 
of  the  blessedness  of  intimate  communion  with  God,  and  that 
they  are  indeed  an  index  of  his  own  eminently  spiritual  heart 
and  life. 

In  a  letter  to  his  brother  George  at  this  time,  not 
long  after  the  affair  at  Salem,  above  referred  to,  lie 
says,  with  characteristic  affection : 

I  know  you  will  not  judge  me,  or  impute  it  to  want  of 
affection,  that  I  have  not  written  you  a  long  letter  of  conso 
lation,  sympathy,  and  encouragement,  since  the  outrage  upon 
your  person,  and  the  consequent  circumstances  of  excitement 
and  trial  in  which  you  have  been  placed.  Mother,  in  the 
fulness  of  her  affectionate  heart,  has  expressed  the  feelings 
of  tender,  yearning  sympathy  which  we  all  had,  and  also  our 
heartfelt  gratitude  to  God  that  you  were  enabled  by  his 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVER,    M.D.  95 

grace  to  conduct  in  so  meek  and  Christian  a  manner.  But 
her  faith  in  regard  to  the  good  which  the  piece  would  do,  was 
never  quite  so  strong  as  that  of  Elizabeth  and  myself ;  for  we 
hoped  from  the  beginning  that  much  would  result  in  con 
sequence  of  it.  It  seems  to  have  called  forth  the  talents  of 
many  able  writers,  and  to  have  emboldened  the  friends  of 
temperance  to  speak  out  in  a  more  decided  and  fearless  man 
ner  than  they  have  yet  done.  That  letter  in  the  Worcester 
Palladium,  was  a  most  capital  one.  I  sent  you  last  week  the 
Free  Press  and  Advocate,  which  had  in  it  the  amusing  and 
well-executed  parody  from  the  Lowell  Pledge. 

Our  good  Deacon  Dole  has  stood  by  you  firm  from  the  be 
ginning.  He  said  to  me  some  time  since,  that  "  he  should 
like  to  go  halves  with  you  in  all  the  reproach,  and  in  all  the 
good  which  the  piece  would  occasion."  Perhaps  you  and 
Henry  together  may  have  digested  some  tangible  plan  in  re 
gard  to  our  intended  voyage.  Let  us  know  fully  the  result 
of  your  thoughts,  and  your  mutual  deliberations  upon  the 
subject. 

An  expression  of  affection  received  about  this  time 
from  his  brother  at  Salem,  may  be  properly  incorpo 
rated  here,  describing,  as  it  does,  better  than  any  thing 
which  could  be  written  'at  this  distance  of  time,  both 
the  sufferings  and  the  hopes  which  led  to  the  deter 
mination  of  taking  a  voyage  to  the  Mediterranean, 
and  trying  a  residence  in  the  south  of  Spain. 

TO    MY    YOUNGEST    BROTHER    IN     CONTINUED    SICKNESS. 

Our  youngest  household  flower  still  fading  fast ! 
Pain  seems  thy  heritage.     There  was  a  time, 
My  drooping,  patient  brother,  when  thy  step 
(My  eyes  are  filled  with  tears  at  the  remembrance) 
Was  nimble  and  elastic  as  the  roe's. 
Thought  scarce  was  quicker  in  its  untraced  speed, 


96  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

Than  all  thy  life  :  for  thought  with  thee  was  motion, 
Impetuous  motion  all,  wild,  fearless,  free  ! 
Now,  how  it  pains  my  soul  to  see  thee  move  ! 
So  sad,  so  slow,  yet  young  and  beautiful. 
The  earliest  dawn  in  summer  found  thee  then 
Up  and  abroad,  to  greet  the  glorious  sun 
With  thy  clear  voice,  that  wakened  all  the  house. 
Now,  nights  are  wearisome,  and  fickle  sleep, 
Hard-breathed  and  laboring,  visits  thy  sad  couch- 
That  midnight  cough !     How  dread  its  racking  sounds  ! 
And  morning  comes,  and  the  sweet  early  dews 
Rise  up,  like  incense,  to  the  new-risen  sun, 
And  other  inmates  are  about  the  house, 
And  the  first  frugal  meal  is  ready ;  but  thy  face — 
We  miss  its  smile — thy  cheerful  shout  of  glee. 
The  languid  bed  detains  thee,  till  thy  frame 
Gathers  the  rest,  night-slumbers  could  not  bring. 
Two  years,  long  painful  years  of  sickness  gone  ! 
The  rose  no  more  is  on  thy  cheek  as  wont, 
And  with  its  fading  step,  gradual  and  sad, 
Has  fled  the  buoyancy  and  flash  of  spirit, 
The  joyous  and  impetuous  pulse  of  soul. 
It  cannot  beat  in  pain  as  once  in  health. 

*  *  *  * 

Long  time  ago  (four  years  and  more  have  past) 
My  heart  did  utter  thus  the  voice  of  mourning. 
Oh,  my  loved  brother,  dearer  for  thy  calm 
And  patient  suffering  of  these  years  of  pain  ! 
Sorrow  is  stirred  afresh  to  mind  the  bud 
In  youth  so  perfect,  checked  in  its  sweet  growth  ; 
The  rose  denied  to  bloom,  the  fruit  to  ripen  ; 
Yet  shedding  forth  such  fragrance  to  the  air, 
As  makes  the  sad  beholder  pause  and  wonder. 

Thy  growing  frame  subdued  by  strong  disease ; 
Thy  youth  forbid  to  open  into  manhood  ; 
Thy  thirst  for  knowledge  thou  couldst  not  indulge  ; 
Plans  fondly  formed  for  health  that  would  not  come, 
And  remedies  but  tried  to  show  how  vain, 
And,  season  after  season,  hopes  deferred — 
Alas !  how  can  they  but  subdue  thy  spirit ! 

Yet  look  away  where  all  is  bright  in  Christ ! 
Nor  let  affliction  chase  the  natural  smile 


OF   NATHANIEL    CI1EEVMJ,   M.D.  97 

That  always  cheered  all  hearts,  and  used  to  show 
Life's  gloomiest  clouds  illumed  with  rainbow  colors. 
Dear  brother !     Not  unkindly  does  the  Lord 
Weaken  thy  strength,  but  all  in  utmost  love 
And  perfect  wisdom,  keeps  thee  suffering  still. 
Then  faint  not,  though  thou  be  chastised  of  him ; 
For  love  is  breathed  in  every  pain  continued, 
And  all  things  are  attempered  for  thy  good. 
'Twill  be  made  clear  hereafter,  and  perhaps 
Thy  scene  of  trial,  e'en  on  earth,  may  issue 
Brightly,  and  in  the  ministry  of  Christ ! 
Oh,  blessed  hope !     If  such  should  be  his  plan, 
How  sweet  a  lot  were  thine,  my  patient  brother ! 
Whether  it  be  or  not,  Irust  thou  in  Christ, 
.  And  praise  him  for  the  healing  of  thy  soul, 
And  for  that  grace,  which,  out  of  earthly  ill. 
Draws  forth  the  soul's  most  precious  medicines. 
To  him  my  heart  commends  thee  ;  may  his  love 
Still  sweeten  all  thy  trials,  shining  so, 
And  giving  grace  to  bear  them,  that  thy  life 
May  pass  serenely,  hid  with  Christ  in  God. 
His  glorious  body  is  the  form  divine, 
Thine  shall  assume  in  heaven.     When  he  appears 
Thou  also  shalt  appear  with  him  in  glory. 
SALEM,  MASS.,  APRIL  23RD,  1835. 

Consequent  upon  this,  and  responsive  to  the  same- 
was  the  following  letter : 

MOST  DEARLY  BELOVED  BROTHER. — Your  sympathizing 
and  deeply  interesting  letter,  received  this  morning,  has  so 
thoroughly  stirred  up  within  me  the  full  fountains  of  fraternal 
love,  that  I  have  determined  to  let  their  streams  flow  out  to 
wards  you  in  the  delightful  channel  of  epistolary  communication. 
For  the  tender,  touching,  affectionate  poetry,  I  do  most  sin 
cerely  thank  you.  It  may,  indeed,  make  me  feel  sad  to  com 
pare  my  present  hodily  weakness,  and  the  shattering  effects 
of  a  long-continued  and  distressing  disorder,  with  my  former 
abundant  and  uninterrupted  flow  of  health  and  vigor,  and  that 
seven  anniversaries  of  my  birth  have  found  me  under  its  in- 
5 


98  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

fluence  ;  but  still  I  would  say  with  the  faith  of  the  Shuna- 
mitess,  "  It  is  well,"  and  desire  to  refer  the  disposition  of  all 
events  to  him  who  "  doeth  all  things  well,"  and  has  always 
mingled  with  my  cup  of  affliction  so  many  alleviations,  and 
such  rich  and  manifold  blessings. 

My  great  desire  and  prayer  is,  that  whether  it  issues  in  life 
or  in  death,  it  may  be  sanctified  to  my  growth  in  grace,  and 
greater  fitness  for  those  blessed  mansions  of  rest  which  sin, 
disease,  and  death  shall  never  invade.  How  blessed  should  I 
be,  if,  after  all  the  suffering  our  heavenly  Father  has  no 
doubt  in  kindness  laid  upon  me,  this  trial,  as  you  say,  should 
"  issue  in  the  ministry  of  Christ!"  This  is,  indeed,  a  con 
summation  most  devoutly  to  be  wished  ;  and  it  is  not  an  im 
possible  one.  If  God  should  bless  to  the  perfect  restoration 
of  my  health,  the  voyage  to,  and  residence  at  Malaga,  such  may 
yet,  by  his  approving  blessing,  and  the  gifts  and  graces  of 
his  Spirit,  be  my  great  happiness  to  enjoy. 

We  earnestly  long  to  see  you,  and  hope  it  may  be  but  a  lit 
tle  while  ere  we  shall  be  gratified  by  beholding  and  speaking 
with  you  face  to  face.  Come  as  soon  as  you  can,  though  you 
are  able  to  stay  but  a  few  days ;  for  we  all  feel  anxious  to  be 
together  once  more  before  Henry  and  myself  leave.  With 
more  love  than  language  can  express,  I  am  your  truly  affec 
tionate  and  grateful  brother. 

The  religious  journal  here  supplies  a  leaf  of  auto 
biography,  dated, 

Sunday  afternoon,  April  19^,  1835. — I  believe  this  is  the 
sixth  or  seventh  Sabbath  in  succession  that  I  have  been  de 
tained  from  public  worship,  principally  on  account  of  my 
feeble  health.  My  fleshly  tabernacle  seems  indeed  frail,  and 
sometimes  tending  towards  its  dissolution.  It  is  uncertain 
now  whether  I  have  sufficient  health  to  undertake  a  voyage, 
though  it  may  be  that  with  the  commencement  of  warm, 
pleasant  weather,  it  will  be  somewhat  improved.  I  do  not 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVEK,    M.D.  99 

feel  that  triumphant  joy  and  ecstasy  in  view  of  death,  which, 
as  a  disciple  of  Christ,  it  is  my  privilege  to  enjoy. 

Sabbath  evening,  April  2Qth. — I  have  spent  the  day  in 
reading  the  Bible,  prayer,  and  some  other  reading.  I  have 
begun  a  volume  of  the  Select  Practical  Theology  of  the  Seven 
teenth  Century,  containing,  "  Howe  on  the  Blessedness  of  the 
Righteous,"  and  "  Bates'  Discourses  on  the  four  last  things, 
Death,  Judgment,  Heaven,  Hell."  In  reading  Howe,  it  re 
quires  a  good  deal  of  attention  to  understand  his  meaning ; 
but  he  is  rich  in  thought,  which  it  is  worth  the  while  to  be  at 
considerable  trouble  to  find  out.  My  dear  brother  H  is  now 
with  me,  and  I  must  strive  to  set  such  an  example  before  him, 
as  will  at  least  not  retard,  but  may  accelerate  his  progress 
heavenward.  I  have  had  a  comfortable,  pleasant  day  at 
home,  though  I  have  not  had  that  deep  brokenness  of  heart 
and  penitential  sorrow  which  the  remembrance  of  my  own 
sins,  and  the  amazing  love  of  Jesus,  my  Saviour,  ought  to 
excite.  How  sweet  is  the  name  of  Jesus  to  a  believer  ! 

May  \lth. — It  is  now  most  probable  if  my  health  continues 
tolerably  good,  and  things  are  favorable,  that  in  company  with 
my  dear  brother  H  I  shall  go  on  a  voyage  to  Malaga.  This 
is  a  great  undertaking,  and  I  desire  not  to  enter  upon  it 
without  the  blessing  of  God ;  but  surely,  if  I  ever  made  any 
thing  a  subject  of  prayer,  I  have  this,  and  of  much  and  sin 
cere  prayer.  I  hope,  by  the  divine  blessing,  it  may  be  made 
efficacious  to  my  perfect  restoration  to  health.  Oh,  that  the 
Lord  would  graciously  permit  me  to  return,  and  count  mo 
worthy,  after  due  preparation,  to  preach  the  everlasting  gos 
pel.  Thou  hast  chosen,  O  Lord,  the  weak  things  of  the 
world  to  confound  the  mighty.  Oh  !  choose  me,  weak  and 
sinful  as  I  am,  to  be  an  instrument  of  salvation  to  many  im 
mortal  souls. 

Sabbat/i,  morning,  June  14^,  1835. — I  yesterday  took  an 
emetic  of  ipecac,  and  though  much  relieved  by  it,  am  not 
able  to  attend  divine  service.  It  is  possible  that  during  this 


100  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

week  we  may  depart  on  our  way  to  embark  for  Malaga.  I  have 
an  earnest  desire,  and  strong  hope  that  we  may  be  very  use 
ful  on  board  the  vessel,  and  also  to  the  crews  of  vessels  visit 
ing  the  port  after  we  arrive  there,  as  I  intend,  if  I  can,  to  get 
entrusted  with  a  lot  of  Bibles  and  Testaments  for  distribution 
to  seamen  and  others,  if  there  shall  be  such  who  may  be  des 
titute,  and  wish  for  them  ;  and,  0  Lord,  do  thou  thus,  and 
by  whatever  lawful  means  we  may  use,  make  us  the  blessed 
instruments  of  accomplishing  thy  glorious  purposes  of  mercy 
and  salvation  to  many  souls. 

For  my  spiritual  benefit  and  assistance,  relying  upon  the 
gracq.of  God  for  their  fulfilment,  I  make  the  following  reso 
lutions  :  First,  I  will  be  as  strictly  regular  and  punctual  in 
my  devotions  as  I  can,  consistent  with  a  conscientious  con 
sideration  of  outward  circumstances.  Second,  I  will  be  kind, 
amiable,  and  conciliating,  easy  to  bo  entreated,  and  forgiving 
in  my  intercourse  with  my  dear  brother,  and  to  all  with  whom 
I  may  meet.  I  will  have  three  reasons  of  prayer  a  day,  viz., 
as  early  in  the  morning  as  possible,  at  noon,  either  before  or 
after  dinner,  and  at  night.  I  will  try  to  cultivate  at  all  times 
a  deep  sense  of  the  constant  presence  of  God,  and  frequently 
commune  with  him  by  ejaculatory  petitions.  We  shall  not 
probably  enjoy  the  many  delightful  religious  privileges  which 
we  now  have  as  means  of  growth  in  grace  ;  and  our  temp 
tations  will  be  much  increased,  so  that  we  shall  have  to  watch 
and  strive,  and  pray  with  increased  diligence,  resolution,  and 
importunity.  If  temptations  have  this  effect  (and,  0  Lord, 
may  they  have  it),  they  will  only  serve  to  strengthen  and  con 
firm  our  Christian  characters,  instead  of  weakening  them. 
0  Lord,  let  all  our  temptations,  distresses,  and  trials  only 
drive  us  nearer  to  thee ;  make  thy  strength  perfect  in  our 
weakness ;  in  all  our  temptations  provide  a  way  for  our 
escape  ;  and  trusting  in  thee,  may  we  be  strong,  do  our  duty 
faithfully,  and  gain  thine  approbation  and  abundant  blessing 
upon  our  feeble  efforts  to  do  good. 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          101 

The  necessary  arrangements  for  the  departure  of 
the  beloved  invalid  were  made  from  a  conviction  of 
the  necessity  of  such  an  expedient.  A  sea-voyage 
was  yet  untried,  and  seemed  the  only  hopeful  remedy 
remaining.  The  testimony  of  several  persons  finding 
relief  from  asthma  when  at  sea,  together  with  the 
opinion  of  his  physician,  that  he  would  derive  benefit 
from  a  change  of  climate,  induced  a  strong  desire  on 
the  part  of  the  patient  sufferer  to  test  its  efficacy  upon 
himself.  The  residence  of  his  uncle,  George  G.  Bar- 
rell,  Esq.,  as  United  States  Consul  at  Malaga,  Spain, 
decided  the  voyage  for  that  port,  and  mitigated,  in 
some  measure,  the  anxiety  of  friends  in  view  of  the 
undertaking. 

He  was  also  to  leave  in  the  care  of  a  beloved 
brother,  under  circumstances  as  favorable  as  they 
could  be  in  the  absence  of  health.  His  uncle  was 
apprised  of  their  intention,  and  with  a  generous 
regard  to  the  comfort  of  the  invalid,  had  rooms  pre 
pared,  and  special  arrangements  made  in  his  house 
hold  for  their  reception.  He  became  strongly  at 
tached  to  his  young  nephew,  and  interested  himself  in 
his  behalf  as  a  father  in  a  son. 

The  time  for  the  dreaded  separation  was  approach 
ing  ;  but  for  several  days  previous  to  his  leaving,  the 
extreme  weakness  of  his  whole  system,  his  labored 
breathing  and  severe  cough,  made  it  doubtful  whether 
he  would  be  able  to  undertake  the  voyage.  His 
energy  of  character  under  such  a  weight  of  disease, 
and  resolute  determination  to  go  forward,  were  sur 
prising,  and  made  him  a  marvel  to  his  friends  at  this 


102  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

time.  It  was  a  painful  effort  they  all  made  to  sup 
press  feeling,  and  appear  cheerful  in  the  presence  of 
the  subdued,  yet  hopeful  sufferer.  To  have  so  en 
deared  an  object  of  affection — one  so  tenderly  cher 
ished  and  long  watched  over — removed  from  a  mother's 
and  sister's  care,  and  all  the  affectionate  caresses  of 
home,  was  a  trial  to  be  fully  understood  only  by  those 
who  have  experienced  the  same.  The  Almighty  arm 
was  underneath  him ;  and  his  sustaining  love  upheld 
the  home-circle  under  the  pangs  of  parting,  on  the 
morning  of  June  26th,  1835. 

He  regretted  the  absence  of  his  pastor  at  this  time, 
yet  amid  his  weakness  he  wrote  an  affectionate  fare 
well  note  to  him  the  evening  previous  to  his  leaving. 
His  departure  in  such  feeble  health  excited  an  interest 
in  the  hearts  of  many  friends,  whose  sympathy  and 
kindness  he  gratefully  appreciated.  Much  prayer 
was  made  unto  God  in 'his  behalf. 

His  care  for  those  he  loved,  and  desire  to  assuage 
their  grief  as  far  as  possible,  was  seen  in  his  writing  a 
few  lines  of  encouragement  as  to  his  health  for  his 
mother  and  sister,  when  only  four  miles  on  his  way, 
while  the  stage-coach  stopped  at  Gardiner  ;  and  then, 
at  the  close  of  the  day,  he  penned  a  cheerful  letter 
from  Portland,  to  assure  them  of  the  good  effect  of 
the  journey  thus  far,  an  extract  from  which  here  fol 
lows  : 

Portland,  Friday  P.  M.,  June  26th,  1835. 
DEAR  MOTHER  AND  SISTER — We  have  just  arrived  safe 
at  the  Elm  Tavern,  and  the  first  thing  I  do  is  to  inform  you 
of  the  Lord's  great  goodness  in  so  mercifully  preserving  and 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVEE,    M.D.  103 

bringing  us  so  comfortably  to  the  end  of  our  day's  journey. 
I  have  borne  the  ride  much  better  than  I  had  reason  to  ex 
pect,  and  am  but  little  fatigued  in  comparison  with  what  I 
might  have  anticipated.  I  coughed  but  little  in  the  stage 
coach,  and  was  not  so  affected  with  nausea  as  to  be  obliged  to 
ride  outside  ;  indeed,  I  got  along  very  comfortably,  and  per 
haps  feel  as  well  now  as  I  should  if  I  had  been  at  home 
all  day.  I  have  breathed  quite  freely,  except  when  I 
coughed  once  or  twice  as  we  stopped,  and  have  cause  for 
gratitude  that  I  feel  so  comfortable  as  I  now  do,  after  the 
completion  of  this  day's  ride,  in  regard  to  the  effects  of  which 
you  know  we  all  felt  so  much  anxiety.  1  do  beseech  you, 
dear  mother  and  E.,  not  to  distress  yourselves,  or  feel  too 
much  anxiety  on  our  account.  In  mercy  to  myself,  I  did 
not  experience  such  keen  anguish  at  parting  with  you  as  I 
expected,  and  I  think  not  so  great  as  I  had  felt  in  antici 
pation  of  the  separation.  Commit  and  commend  us  con 
tinually  to  God  our  heavenly  Father,  who  has  hitherto  sus 
tained  us  in  all  the  scenes  of  affliction  and  trial  which  he  has 
laid  upon  us.  I  enjoyed  much  after  I  got  into  the  coach  in 
doing  this  :  in  committing  to  God  each  and  every  one  of  us, 
and  all  our  cares  and  concerns  to  him  who  "  doeth  all  things 

O 

well."  I  must  bid  you  good-bye,  though  I  could  write  much 
longer  if  I  had  time.  May  the  grace  of  God  keep  and  bless 
each  one  of  us  continually,  is  the  prayer  of  your  ever  affec 
tionate  and  dutiful  son  and  brother. 

New  York,  June  3<M,  1835. 

DEAR  MOTHER  AND  ELIZABETH — Preserved  again  by  the 
unsleeping  vigilance  of  our  Almighty  Keeper,  I  am  permitted 
to  announce  to  you  our  safe  arrival  in  this  great  city.  The 
goodness  of  G-od  has  been  great  to  us  every  moment  since  we 
left  you  ;  everything  has  been  favorable,  and  everybody  kind  ; 
and  I  have  been  so  comfortably  well  as  to  enjoy,  in  a  high 
degree,  except  when  sea-sick,  the  novelty  and  beauty  of  the 


104:  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

various  scenes  through  which  we  have  passed.  George  ac 
companied  us  to  the  cars.  "We  left  Boston  yesterday,  A.  M., 
at  nine  o'clock,  on  the  railroad.  Our  hearts,  as  brothers, 
knit  together  in  love,  by  a  common  participation  in  the  con 
stant  pleasure  of  each  other's  society,  now  rendered  doubly 
precious  and  consoling  by  our  separation  from  those  with  whom 
it  was  our  greatest  happiness  to  dwell ;  and  also,  I  hope,  by  a 
grateful  enjoyment  of  the  uninterrupted  stream  of  blessings 
which  I  may  well  say  hn?  followed  us  ever  since  our  departure 
from  home. 

As  the  mail  closes  at  throe  o'clock,  I  must  express  in  as 
short  time  as  possible  the  overflowing  emotions  of  my  heart 
on  the  receipt  of  your  sweet,  but  too  feeling  letters.  You 
have,  no  doubt,  ere  this  received  the  letters  I  wrote  you  at 
Portland  and  Boston ;  and  you  ought,  at  the  time  of  writing 
your  letter,  to  have  received  a  comforting  line  written  at 
Gardiner,  the  morning  we  left,  to  send  by  the  Hourly.  Do 
not,  dear  mother  and  E.,  I  beseech  you,  do  not  feel  so  keenly 
our  absence  ;  and,  at  least  on  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  let 
your  gratitude  to  God  for  his  protecting  care,  and  unspeak 
able  kindness  to  us,  swallow  up  every  other  emotion  of  your 
aching  hearts.  I  must  curb  the  swelling  desires  and  longing 
emotions  of  my  heart,  which  would  prompt  me  to  fill  with 
love  many  sheets,  and  tell  you  of  matters  in  regard  to 
which  you  will  likewise  feel  anxious  to  know.  I  am  able 
to  walk  about  and  view  the  swarming  multitudes,  and  many 
new  and  pleasing  objects  which  meet  the  eye  in  the  streets  of 
this  vast  city. 

We  turn  again  to  the  pages  of  the  Private  Journal, 
wherein  we  find  one  entry  dated  in  the  great  metropo 
lis  of  New  York,  July  1st. 

We  started  from  Hallowell  last  Friday  morning,  June  26th. 
It  was  a  most  painful  separation,  but  I  was  enabled  to  control 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          105 

my  feelugs  ;  and  I  think  ray  keenest  feelings  have  been,  and 
are  on  at. count  of  the  distress  which  this  parting  occasions  to 
my  dear  Mother  and  sister.  0  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  sustain 
them  un  ler  this  trial ;  may  their  hearts  be  kept  in  perfect 
peace,  being  stayed  on  thee  :  be  thou  their  strength  and 
refuge,  and  may  they  find  sweet  joy  and  serenity  in  calmly 
committing  us  and  themselves,  and  all  that  we  have  and  are, 
to  thy  faithful,  unceasing  care  and  disposal ;  and  may  we  all 
be  entirely  willing  to  be  in  thy  hands,  to  live  or  to  die ;  to  be 
in  sickness  or  in  health,  adversity  or  prosperity.  And  oh, 
in  mercy,  sanctify  to  us  abundantly  all  the  discipline  and 
correction  which  thou  laj^est  upon  us,  and  permit  all  at 
last  to  meet,  purified  from  all  sin,  in  thy  blessed  kingdom 
above.  I  would  say,  in  the  words  of  a  beautiful  hymn,  "  Here 
I  raise  my  Ebenezer  ;  Hither,  by  thine  help,  I'm  come."  The 
Lord  has  been  unutterably  good  and  kind  to  me.  O  may  my 
heart  be  improved  by  it ;  his  gracious  blessing  be  continued  to 
us,  and  this  undertaking  be  instrumental  for  the  accomplish 
ment  of  the  wished-for  object  of  its  adoption. 

At  Sea,  ship  Empress,  lat.  40°  57 '  North,  July  1th. — Here 
I  am,  the  sixth  day  at  sea,  having  been  mercifully  permitted 
to  set  out  on  this  voyage  last  Friday  morn.  There  seems  to 
be  not  one  pious  soul  on  board,  either  among  the  crew  or 
officers ;  but,  for  this  very  reason,  it  becomes  us  to  labor  with 
so  much  the  more  ardor,  perseverance,  and  humility,  that  we 
may  be  instrumental  of  their  conversion.  Oh  for  the  faith, 
humility,  and  tenderness  requisite  rightly  to  discharge  our 
duty.  Faith  we  must  have,  and  faith  can  only  be  successful. 
The  six  men  before  the  mast  are  colored  men,  and  some  of 
them  cannot  read;  this  we  are  very  sorry  for,  as  we  have 
Bibles,  Testaments,  and  Tracts  they  might  have ;  but  we 
shall  probably  let  those  have  a  Testament  who  cannot  read, 
in  the  hope  that  they  may  be  able  to  learn.  With  gratitude 
to  God,  I  record  the  great  improvement  of  my  health,  which 
has  been  mending  ever  since  I  left  home. 
5* 


106  MEMORIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

After  supper,  on  Sabbath  night,  we  had  prayers  on  the 
ship's  deck,  the  crew  being  present,  and  dear  H.  officiating. 
It  was  pleasant  to  hear  the  word  of  God  and  the  voice  of 
prayer  and  praise  ascending  from  our  ship  to  Him  "  who  has 
made  the  sea,  and  the  things  that  are  therein,"  and  who, 
from  all  places  of  his  dominion,  will  listen  to  the  voice  of 
humble  supplication.  My  bodily  stupor  and  languor,  for  a 
great  part  of  the  day,  were  such  as  to  prevent  that  holy  activity 
of  mind,  and  high  spiritual  enjoyment,  which  it  is  the  blessed 
privilege  of  a  Christian  at  all  times,  but  especially  on  the  holy 
Sabbath,  to  experience. 

The  Atlantic  is  crossed ;  the  OLD  WORLD  lias  opened 
to  the  gaze  of  the  valetudinarian  traveller  from  the  NEW  ; 
the  land  of  battle,  chivalry,  romance,  and  song  is 
reached,  and  this  is  the  first  echo  from  the  Pillars  of 
Hercules,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mediterranean. 

Griffith's  Hotel,  Gibraltar,  July  21th,  1835.  . 
MOST  DEAR  AND  HONORED  MOTHER — Through  the  un 
speakable  goodness  of  God,  I  arn  permitted  to  address  you 
from  this  impregnable  fortress,  under  the  walls  of  which  we 
came  safely  to  anchor  on  Saturday  evening,  having  experi 
enced,  during  our  whole  passage,  His  constant  tender  mercy 
and  protection,  and  arrived  here  in  the  uncommonly  short 
time  of  twenty-two  days.  The  loving-kindness  of  our  heavenly 
Father  is  exceeding  great  and  truly  affecting,  and  demands 
from  us  all  the  most  fervent  acknowledgments  and  praise.  I 
hope  the  ardor  of  your  gratitude  will  not  be  damped  when, 
reluctantly,  and  with  much  sorrow,  I  am  compelled  to  an 
nounce  that,  for  several  days,  I  have  been  afflicted  with  a 
renewed  attack  of  my  distressing  disorder,  but  hope  I  am  now 
on  the  recovery.  Was  it  hardly  reasonable  to  expect  that  one 
so  deeply  rooted  and  unyieldingly  obstinate  as  my  asthma 
should,  by  the  most  favorable  means,  be  at  once  expelled  from 
my  system  ? 


OF    NATHANIEL    CIIEEVER,   M.D.  107 

You  will  have  seen,  from  the  former  part  of  this  letter,  how 
entirely  the  sea  voyage  has  agreed  with  me,  and  anything  I 
now  say  should  not  tend  otherwise  than  to  corroborate  that 
fact ;  but,  soon  after,  or  about  the  time  of  finishing  it,  the  sad, 
boding  symptoms  of  an  ill  turn,  like  birds,  ominous  of  a  threat 
ening  storm,  began  to  warn  me  of  its  approach,  and  Thursday 
night  last,  the  dreaded  paroxysm  came,  and  Friday,  Saturday, 
and  yesterday,  I  suffered  under  its  influence  ;  but  I  tell  you 
truly,  dear  Mother,  not  near  so  much  as  I  often  have  under 
your  own  painful  observation  at  home.  When  I  am  malo^  as 
they  say  in  Spanish,  I  cannot  write  I  am  well,  but  I  hope  to  be 
so  ere  we  arrive  at  Malaga.  We  were  not  able  to  obtain  a  per 
mit  to  land,  and  attend  church,  but  had  a  quiet  Sabbath  on 
board,  and  this  morning  landed,  and  were  introduced  by  our 
Captain  to  the  American  Consul,  Mr.  Sprague,  with  whom,  in 
compliance  with  his  polite  invitation,  we  dined,  and  found  him 
self  and  family  very  pleasant  and  hospitable  ;  his  wife  being  a 
French  lady,  speaking  herself  to  her  children  (of  which  she 
has  nine  intelligent  and  pretty  one-s),  and  having  spoken  in 
her  family,  no  less  than  three  different  languages,  French, 
Spanish,  and  English.  We  were  delighted  once  more  with 
the  sound  of  a  sweet-toned  piano,  on  which  one  of  the  daugh 
ters  played  some  of  the  beautiful  airs  we  have  been  wont,  with 
so  much  pleasure,  to  hear  our  dear  E.  perform. 

We  came  to  this  hotel  this  evening,  and  both  here  and  at 
the  office  on  the  Mole,  where  we  obtained  our  permits,  it  is  a 
most  novel  and  curious  spectacle  to  behold  tho  motley  groups 
of  almost  all  nations  passing  and  repassing  before  us.  Here, 
the  outcast  son  of  Israel,  and  the  turbaned  Moor  ejected  from 
their  former  possessions,  both  with  their  flowing  beards  and 
bare  legs ;  and  in  another  place  the  Spaniard,  with  his  brown 
complexion  and  peaked  hat,  together  with  Greeks,  Genoese, 
and  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison,  all  in  their  different  costumes  ; 
the  English  citizens,  Americans,  and  other  Europeans  dressed 
in  our  own  style,  and  many  other  varieties  which  might  be 


108  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

mentioned,  make  up  such  a  singular  and  grotesque  ensemble  as 
could  hardly  be  witnessed  in  any  other  place  on  the  continent, 
if,  indeed,  in  the  world. 

The  confused  gabble  of  this  mingled,  heterogeneous  throng 
is  about  as  amusing  to  the  ear,  as  to  the  eye  the  different 
fashion  of  their  piebald  garments.  I  must  defer  a  description 
of  the  natural  and  artificial  wonders  of  this  singularly  situated 
place,  with  its  various  peculiarities  of  appearance,  until  I  have 
more  time  and  room,  and  have  surveyed  them,  as  I  hope  to 
do,  with  more  minute  attention ;  and  I  shall  not  forget  to 
obtain,  if  I  can,  a  good-sized  piece  of  the  famous  rock  of  Gib 
raltar,  for  our  mineralogical  and  botanical  friend,  Mrs.  A., 
whose  kindness  in  sending  the  preserves  I  equally  feel  as 
though  they  had  come  in  season  to  benefit  us. 

Two  days  later  than  the  letter,  lie  writes  from  the 
same  place  in  his  journal.  The  extract  evinces  the 
Christian  temper  with  which  lie  still  bore  his  se 
vere  trial,  and  indicat.es  the  secret  refreshings  from 
above  that  repaired  his  strength  and  upheld  his  faint 
ing  spirits,  when  otherwise  they  would  have  been  sure 
to  droop. 

Gibraltar,  July  29th,  1835. 

Here  am  I,  in  a  land  of  strangers  and  foreigners,  three  or 
four  thousand  miles  from  my  own  beloved  kindred  and  home, 
the  breadth  of  the  mighty  Atlantic  intervening  between  us  ; 
but  here,  also,  as  at  home,  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  our 
God  is  seen,  and  here,  as  there,  we  may  praise  him  for  his 
loving  kindness. 

Dear  H.  is  kindly  mitigating,  by  his  assiduous  attentions, 
the  distress  of  my  still  obstinate  complaint,  and  I  have  the 
unspeakable  privilege  of  prayer,  a  throne  of  mercy  and  grace, 
to  which  I  may  at  all  times  freely  resort.  0  what  a  precious, 
unutterably  precious  blessing  this  is,  to  have  God  for  our 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          109 

friend,  and  to  be  able  to  implore  his  grace  and  assistance.  Let 
us  be  where  we  may,  in  whatever  situation  or  circumstances, 
sailing  upon  the  ocean  or  travelling  upon  the  land,  by  the 
way-side  or  at  home,  no  hindrances,  if  we  have  the  spirit  of 
prayer,  can  prevent  us  drawing  from  its  use  wisdom  and  spirit 
ual  might,  to  go  on  our  way  rejoicing. 

We  have  found,  ever  since  we  left  home,  much  sweet  con 
solation  in  social  prayer  ;  in  unitedly  committing  ourselves  and 
those  most  dear  to  us,  from  whom  we  are  now  so  widely  sepa 
rated,  and  the  temporal  and  eternal  interests  of  all,  to  Him 
who,  I  trust,  through  the  atoning  merits  and  grace  of  Jesus, 
our  blessed  Redeemer,  is  our  covenant  Grod  and  Father,  able 
to  keep  both  them  and  us,  and  to  do  for  us  all  more  abund 
antly  than  we  could  ask  or  even  think.  It  is,  truly,  a  most 
trying  dispensation,  to  be  afflicted,  just  as  I  get  to  land,  and 
when  I  wish  to  be  particularly  well,  with  a  distressing  return 
of  my  disorder,  that  disables  me,  in  a  great  measure,  from 
doing  as  I  wish  to  ;  but  I  think  I  feel  no  disposition  to  mur 
mur,  and  believe,  though  it  may  seem  the  contrary,  that  it  is 
intended  for  my  best  good. 

We  close  this  chapter  with  a  record  found  in  the 
Private  Journal,  on  arriving  at  the  city  of  Malaga,  in 
the  south  of  Spain. 

In  Quarantine,  off  Malaga  Mole,  August  2d,  1835. 
How  great  should  be  our  gratitude  to  God  in  thus  happily 
terminating  our  voyage,  and  so  much  sooner  than  we  expected, 
having  met  with  no  accident  or  disaster  during  its  'whole 
course.  "  0  for  grace  our  hearts  to  soften  ;  teach  us,  Lord, 
at  length  to  love"  and  serve  thee  as  we  ought,  and  take  entire 
possession  of  our  hearts.  "  Here,  Lord,  I  give  myself  away." 
I  would  renew  the  consecration  of  myself  to  thee,  and  be 
thine  for  time  and  eternity.  0  grant  me  thy  grace  to  show 
myself  thus  in  the  new  situation  and  circumstances  of  tempta- 


110  MEMOEIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

tion  wherein  I  shall  now  be  placed,  and  make  it  abundantly 
sufficient  for  me. 

We  left  quite  a  large  number  of  Tracts  with  the  soldiers  in 
the  garrison  at  Gibraltar,  and  were  cheered  to  find  some  among 
them  who  appear  to  be  the  soldiers  of  Christ.  It  was  refresh 
ing  to  meet  with  a  few  who  seemed  to  speak  the  language  of 
Heaven,  and  they  also  seemed  much  gratified  by  seeing  some, 
even  strangers,  who  care  for  their  souls,  having  truly,  as  they 
say,  many  temptations  to  encounter.  O  may  these  blessed 
messengers  of  salvation  be  blessed  to  the  turning  of  many 
from  sin  unto  holiness,  and  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God. 
They  will  probably  be  read  by  a  large  number,  as  they  were 
left  at  the  guard  houses,  and  the  men  are  continually  changing 
their  stations,  and  all,  in  the  course  of  a  short  time,  serve  as 
sentinels.  O  Holy  Spirit,  accompany  their  perusal  with  thy 
mighty  energy,  and  from  this  seed  may  a  rich  harvest  of  souls 
be  gathered  in.  Though  I  live  not  to  see  it,  nor  ever  am 
able  to  sow  again  as  I  would,  may  the  little  I  have  done  for 
God's  glory  be  made  into  a  large  blessing.  And  in  the  mul 
titude  of  my  thoughts  within  me,  may  thy  comforts  delight 
my  soul. 

"Although  affliction  smites  my  heart, 

And  earthly  pleasures  flee, 
There  is  one  bliss  that  ne'er  shall  part 

My  joy.  0  God,  in  thee. 
That  joy  is  like  the  orb  of  day, 

When  clouds  its  track  pursue  ; 
The  shades  and  darkness  throng  its  way, 

But  sunlight  struggles  through. 
Oh  Thou,  my  everlasting  light, 

On  whom  my  hopes  rely ; 
With  Thee  the  darkest  path  is  bright, 

And  fears  and  sorrows  die." 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          Ill 


CHAPTER    Y. 

LIFE     AND     OBSERVATIONS     AT     GIBRALTAR,    MALAGA,   AND 
MARSEILLES. 

The  world  is  but  a  walk  of  pain, 

That  has  only  end  with  death  ; 

Life  is  war,  in  which  we  gain 

Conquest  by  the  loss  of  breath. 
Who  would  not  warfare  end,  and  trials  cease, 
To  live  at  home  in  rest,  and  rest  at  home  in  peace. 

ARTHUR  WARWICK. 

THE  journal  and  letters  which  we  now  open,  are 
naturally  more  occupied  with  the  outer  than  with  the 
inner  life  of  their  author,  and  with  his  descriptions 
of  things  seen,  and  his  observations  thereupon  for  his 
own  use,  and  that  of  his  friends.  His  journal,  while 
abroad,  was  dedicated  to  his  sister,  and  it  is  written 
in  a  clear  hand,  with  great  care  and  accuracy.  Al 
though  exceedingly  hampered,  repressed,  and  abso 
lutely  disabled  by  his  disease,  he  was  unwilling  to  let 
anything  of  interest  which  he  saw  and  took  cognizance 
of,  pass  undescribed.  And  his  notes  of  events,  and 
of  passing  scenes,  and  of  all  he  surveyed,  are  particu 
larly  accurate  and  reliable. 


112  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

"We  begin  with  his  sketches  of  Gibraltar,  and  shall 
be  confined  to  his  own  manuscripts,  choosing  to  sup 
ply  nothing  from  our  own  observation  with  him  of  all 
he  describes. 

Gibraltar,  August,  1835. — The  general  appearance  of  the 
whole  place  is  that  of  a  strongly  fortified  military  post ;  and  the 
barracks  for  the  soldiers  and  officers,  and  buildings  belonging 
to  government,  with  guard-houses  and  sentry-boxes,  are  very 
numerous,  and  scattered  in  all  parts  of  the  town,  so  that  you 
are  met  by  officers  and  soldiers  every  few  steps  you  travel ; 
and  sentinels  are  passing  at  a  great  many  different  points,  even 
in  the  most  frequented  streets,  in  the  midst  of  the  thronging 
population.  No  person  but  a  regular  inhabitant  of  the  place  can 
pass  through  the  gate  from  the  mole  without  a  permit  from  the 
officer  there  stationed,  which  is  only  for  one  day,  from  morn 
ing  to  evening  gun-fire,  and  must  be  delivered  up  to  the  same 
on  the  departure  of  the  bearer.  To  remain  a  number  of  days, 
it  is  necessary  to  obtain  from  the  town-major  a  permit,  ac 
companied  with  security  from  some  person  that  it  shall  be 
delivered  within  the  limited  time  to  the  officer  at  the  gate. 

Through  the  assistance  of  our  captain  and  his  consignees, 
as  sureties,  we  got  in  without  difficulty,  and  were  surprised, 
as  we  passed  along,  to  behold  the  strength  of  the  fortifications, 
the  walls  of  which,  all  throughout  the  works,  independent  of 
their  immense  local  .advantage,  are  built  with  great  architec 
tural  exactness,  firmness,  and  durability.  We  walked  from 
the  mole  over  a  drawbridge,  which  is  raised  every  night  at 
the  firing  of  the  gun  at  sunset,  as  well  as  that  at  the  isthmus 
next  to  the  Spanish  territory  ;  and  immediately  on  that  signal, 
the  gates,  and  every  avenue  of  access,  are  at  once  closed, 
debarring  all  ingress  or  egress  till  the  next  morning  at  day 
light,  when  the  gun  is  again  fired,  the  drawbridges  are  raised, 
and  the  gates  are  thrown  open. 

Immediately  succeeding  the  drawbridge,  was  an  arched  en- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          113 

trance,  running  directly  under  the  heavy  battery  above  it,  ten 
or  fifteen  feet  in  length,  and  defended  with  heavy  gates  at 
each  end.  We  went  from  thence  into  a  court,  or  square,  in 
which  were  barracks  for  the  soldiers,  and  then  into  the  main 
street  of  the  town,  called  Water  Port.  During  our  stay  there, 
we  were  every  evening  gratified  by  most  splendid  music,  from 
a  band  of  twelve  or  fourteen  in  number,  belonging  to  the 
garrison,  who  took  their  station  about  half  past  seven,  waiting 
for  the  signal-gun,  immediately  on  the  discharge  of  which,  they 
struck  up  some  beautiful  martial  air,  and  soon  marched  away 
to  their  barracks,  leaving  us  earnestly  wishing  the  prolon 
gation  of  their  sweet,  stirring  notes,  such  as  raised, 

To  height  of  noblest  temper  heroes  old 
Arming  to  battle  ;  and  instead  of  rage, 
Deliberate  valor  breath'd,  firm  and  unmov'd 
With  dread  of  death  to  flight  or  foul  retreat ; 
Nor  wanting  power  to  mitigate  and  swage 
With  solemn  touches'  troubled  thoughts,  and  chase 
Anguish,  and  doubt,  and  fear,  and  sorrow,  and  pain. 

I  rode  a  mile  or  more  towards  Point  Europa,  on  the  road 
to  the  Lower  Town,  which  winds  along  the  edge  of  the  rock. 
It  is  of  gravel,  sufficiently  wide  for  carriages,  and  has  a  wall  of 
stone  about  three  feet  in  height  on  the  side  next  the  precipice, 
which,  part  of  the  way,  looks  down  upon  the  Alameda.  This  is  an 
extensive  garden  of  trees,  flowers,  and  shrubbery,  intersected, 
in  a  tasteful  manner,  by  fine  gravel  walks,  and  including  a 
large  gravelled  square  which  is  used  as  a  parade  ground  for 
the  troops — the  whole  presenting  an  appearance  of  open  space 
and  rural  beauty,  which,  viewing  the  town  from  the  harbor, 
you  would  hardly  think  its  contracted  limits  could  contain. 

I  rode  out  upon  the  isthmus  towards  the  neutral  ground 
and  Spanish  territory,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  observing 
the  immense  strength  of  the  fortifications  at  that  point, 
though  not  to  examine  them  so  particularly  as  I  wished. 


114  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

The  passage  out  was  much  the  same  as  that  through  which 
we  entered  from  the  mole,  being  a  long  arched  way,  of 
twenty-five  or  thirty  feet,  with  gates,  and  defended  at  its  out 
ward  extremity  by  a  drawbridge  and  ditch  thirty  or  forty  feet 
deep,  extending  considerable  distance  on  each  side,  but  now 
dry  and  used  as  pasture  for  the  governor's  sheep.  On  the 
left,  after  leaving  the  drawbridge,  is  a  walled  grassee,  which 
is  undermined,  and  capable  of  being  immediately  blown  up, 
in  case  the  enemy  should  land  upon  it.  Succeeding  this  on 
the  left,  is  the  natural  water  of  the  Bay  of  Algeciras  ;  on  the 
right  an  artificial  inundation,  extending  to  the  foot  of  the 
towering  rock,  frowning  with  its  black  guns  on  the  passer 
below,  and  leaving  space  only  for  a  carriage-way  to  the  larger 
isthmus  beyond.  This  whole  passage,  a  number  of  rods'  in 
length,  is  also  undermined,  and  can  at  once  be  blown  up. 

All  along,  at  different  points,  are  sentinels  ;  and  at  the 
termination  of  the  English  boundary,  which  extends  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  foot  of  the  rock,  is  a  line  of  sentry- 
boxes,  reaching  across  the  isthmus  from  Algeciras  Bay  on  the 
west,  to  the  Mediterranean  on  the  east ;  and  parallel  with  the 
same,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Spanish  jurisdiction,  is  a  similar 
line,  the  English  being  painted  black,  the  Spanish  white,  and 
the  strip  of  neutral  ground,  about  an  eighth  of  a  mile  in 
width  intervening.  Within  the  English  lines  are  some  green 
and  pleasant  looking  gardens,  owned  by  government,  and 
rented  for  the  cultivation  of  vegetables,  which,  contrasted 
with  the  sand  and  barrenness  of  the  isthmus  around  them, 
have  to  the  eye  a  very  grateful  appearance.  There  are  also 
enclosures  for  cattle  in  readiness  for  the  market,  the  lodge 
of  the  governor's  porter,  and  close  at  the  foot  of  the  rock 
some  limekilns,  and  hospital  buildings  for  the  sick  soldiers. 

In  viewing  the  great  strength  of  the  extensive  artificial  for 
tifications,  the  natural  situation,  height,  and  steepness  of 
the  rock,  one  is  speedily  impressed  with  the  arduousness, 
if  not  perfect  impracticability  of  any  attempt  to  displace 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEE,  M.D.         115 

by  force  the  present  possessors  of  these  costly,  and  so  far 
impregnable  fortifications.  The  Moorish  castle  is  built  in  a 
strong,  regular  manner,  of  brick  and  stone,  covered  with 
plaster,  and  occupies  a  large  area  of  ground.  The  arched 
gateway  seems  yet  firm,  though  the  whole  fortress  bears  an 
appearance  of  great  age,  and  of  having  been  the  stronghold 
of  a  people  several  hundred  years  back  into  antiquity.  A 
part  of  these  fortifications  is  now  used  as  a  military  prison. 

Our  ascent  to  the  excavations  (which  are  five  or  six  hundred 
feet  below  the  highest  point  of  the  rock)  was  over  a  very  good 
road  for  horses,  built  up  most  of  the  way  on  the  side  of  the 
rock,  and  of  hard  gravel  and  stone.  The  first  of  the  exca 
vations  is  called  Lower  Union  Gallery,  which  is  hewn  or 
blown  out  of  the  solid  rock,  at  a  width  of  eight  or  ten  feet, 
and  high  enough  for  a  man  on  horseback.  It  is  several  hun 
dred  feet  in  length,  and  terminates  at  a  higher  point  of  the 
rock,  after  traversing  which  for  some  time,  we  entered  Upper 
Union  Gallery.  It  has  much  the  appearance  of  the  other, 
there  being  large  embrasures  in  both,  at  short  intervals,  for 
cannon  of  very  heavy  calibre,  and  also  ammunition-boxes 
and  cannon-balls  in  readiness  for  immediate  use  in  case  of 
danger  to  the  fortress,  which  I  hope  it  will  never  be  neces 
sary  to  apply  to  the  murderous  purpose  for  which  they  were 
made. 

At  a  distance  of  about  eight  hundred  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea,  we  came  to  the  entrance  of  Windsor  'Gallery, 
where  there  is  a  platform  for  a  gun,  from  which  the  prospect 
is  very  extensive,  and  the  size  of  objects  below  very  much 
diminished  by  the  great  height  from  which  you  look  upon 
them.  The  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  are  to  be  seen  on 
one  side  ;  that  of  the  Bay  of  Algeciras  on  the  other,  with  the 
town  of  St.  Koque,  and  the  adjoining  territory  of  Spain  in 
front  across  the  isthmus.  Here  I  was  obliged  to  dismount, 
the  roof  of  the  excavation  not  being  high  enough  to  admit  a 
man  on  horseback.  We  descended  gradually  for  several  hun- 


116  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

dred  yards,  till  we  came  to  the  termination  of  the  excavation 
in  St.  George's  Hall,  which  is  cut  out  of  a  sort  of  wing, 
which,  at  this  point,  projects  from  the  main  rock,  and  forms 
what  is  termed  in  fortification  a  bastion,  commanding,  with 
its  four  guns,  the  ground  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff  below,  thus 
preventing  the  successful  application  of  scaling-ladders  by  an 
enemy  attacking  the  fortress. 

As  you  enter  the  hall  from  the  gallery,  there  are  two  wind 
ing  stair-cases  of  sixty  feet  each — one  of  which  leads  to  a 
battery  in  the  excavations  below,  and  the  other  to  a  point  of 
the  rock  above.  The  hall  occupies  an  area  of  about  fifteen 
feet,  and  the  roof  is  about  that  in  height.  After  examining 
this  remarkable  place,  and  taking  a  piece  of  the  rock  from 
one  of  the  embrasures,  we  commenced  our  descent  by  a  dif 
ferent  and  more  direct  way  than  that  by  which  we  came  up. 

On  the  way  down,  we  left  tracts  at  most  of  the  guard 
houses  we  passed,  which  were  very  gratefully  received ;  and 
as  the  soldiers  at  these  stations  change  every  day  in  the  week, 
they  will  probably  be  read  by  a  great  many,  and,  we  humbly 
hope,  be  instrumental  of  great  good.  We  were  cheered  to 
find  that  some  among  the  soldiers  gave  evidence  that  they  are 
followers  of  Christ.  With  two  in  particular,  I  had  very  in 
teresting  conversation  ;  and  it  was  delightful,  in  the  midst  of 
the  moral  desolations  which  too  evidently  exist  in  that  place, 
to  meet  with  some  who  seemed  to  feel  them  to  be  such,  and 
to  whom  we  could  speak  on  subjects  of  common  interest  to 
all  who  truly  have  an  experimental  acquaintance  with  our 
blessed  and  only  Redeemer,  Jesus  Christ.  In  thus  distribut- 
ino1  them,  we  felt  more  than  ever  the  blessedness  of  these 

O  ' 

winged  messengers  of  salvation,  leaving  them  with  those 
whom  we  may  never  again  see  till  the  last  great  day  of  ac 
count.  Oh,  may  they  then  be  found  to  have  been  the  power 
of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God,  to  the  salvation  of  their 
souls  ! 

In  viewing  these  impregnable  fortifications,  though  they  are 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          117 

wonderful  monuments  of  the  persevering  labor  and  skill  of 
men  ;  yet  the  cause  of  their  construction,  founded  in  the  dis 
position  to  war  and  rapine  so  prevalent  among  mankind,  who 
ought  to  live  as  brethren,  prevented  that  feeling  of  heartfelt 
pleasure  and  satisfaction,  which  may  be  experienced  in  seeing 
the  works  of  nature  or  of  art  for  other  purposes  than  that  of 
defence  from  the  attacks  of  our  fellow  creatures. 

Malaga,  August,  1835. — The  line  of  the  coast  from  Gib 
raltar  to  this  place,  about  eighty  miles,  runs  nearly  northeast 
and  southwest.  The  city  fronts  the  south,  its  buildings  being 
generally  from  two  to  four  stories  in  height,  and  neatly  washed 
white  or  straw-color.  The  most  prominent  objects  are  the 
immense  cathedral,  with  its  towering  steeple,  and  grave,  som 
bre  appearance,  which  stands  in  a  central  part  of  the  city, 
and  the  extensive  remains  of  the  dark,  time-worn,  Moorish 
fortress,  Gibralfaro.  This  occupies  the  side  and  summit  of  a 
high,  steep  hill,  rising  near  the  commencement  of  the  mole, 
in  a  northeast  direction  from  the  cathedral.  With  its  towers 
and  turrets,  it  presents  a  very  romantic  and  venerable  appear 
ance,  reminding  one  of  men  and  ages  long  buried  in  the  dust 
of  antiquity. 

Malaga  was  taken  from  the  Moors  in  1 462  ;  and  this  for 
tress  having  been  perhaps  many  years  before  that  time,  it 
must  probably  be  five  hundred  or  more  years  old.  Near  the 
foot  of  the  Gibralfaro,  at  the  east  part  of  the  city,  is  the 
mole,  which  runs  about  an  eighth  of  a  mile  to  the  south,  with 
a  slight  curvature,  and  forms  on  its  west  side  an  excellent 
basin  for  vessels  of  all  classes,  varying  in  depth  from  ten  and 
fifteen  to  twenty-five  and  thirty,  or  more  feet,  and  having  a  very 
firm  anchorage.  It  is  built  of  grey  stone,  and  has  a  wide,  hard 
road  to  the  light-house,  and  a  fort  at  its  termination,  which 
mounts  several  guns.  On  the  east  side,  for  some  distance,  is  a 
walk  with  a  double  row  of  trees.  The  light-house  is  eighty  feet 
in  height,  neatly  white-washed,  arid  has  a  revolving  light  visible 
eighteen  miles. 


118  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

"We  went  into  the  cathedral  a  few  days  after  we  came  on 
shore,  and  found  it  as  magnificent  inside  as  it  was  imposing 
and  grand  outside.  The  floor  is  paved  with  square  blocks 
of  red  and  white  marble ;  the  sides  of  the  building  adorned 
with  numerous  paintings — a  few  of  them  the  finest  specimens 
of  art.  The  middle  of  the  church  is  occupied  by  the  choir 
arid  the  chancel,  where  are  two  immense  organs.  There  are 
three  principal  entrances  on  different  sides  of  the  building,  to 
which  you  ascend  by  marble  steps  from  the  street.  The 
vaulted  roof  is  most  richly  ornamented  with  carved  work ; 
but  in  this,  as  in  other  churches  we  have  visited,  there  is  too 
great  a  profusion  of  tinsel  and  gilding,  which  appears  only  for 
show,  and  is  highly  offensive  to  good  taste.  There  are  also 
many  niches  in  which  are  groups  of  carved  figures  and  mar 
ble  statues,  some  of  them  well  executed.  At  those  of  the 
Virgin  Mary  it  is  painful  to  see  the  delusion  of  the  people  in 
kneeling  before  them,  counting  their  beads,  and  crossing 
themselves  in  (to  us)  the  most  ridiculous  and  absurd  man 
ner. 

At  the  marble  basins  of  "  holy  water,"  placed  near  the 
door,  we  are  amazed  to  see  people  come  in  from  the  streets, 
dip  their  fingers  in  it,  and  with  most  rapid  gesticulations,  and 
truly  farcical  manner,  cross  their  foreheads,  chins,  and  breasts, 
and  again  retire,  deceived,  I  fear,  with  the  idea  that  by  these 
senseless  observances  they  are  doing  all  that  is  necessary  for 
the  salvation  of  their  souls.  Chapels  to  different  saints  of 
the  calendar  occupy  the  large  alcoves  around  the  building, 
which  are  richly  adorned  with  painting  and  statuary,  and  in 
every  one  is  an  altar  to  say  mass.  In  the  chapel  both  of  the 
Nunnery  and  Convent  which  we  have  visited,  we  were,  with 
considerable  violence  of  tone  and  manner,  commanded  in 
Spanish  to  kneel  at  the  elevation  of  the  host ;  but  this  we 
steadfastly  persisted  in  not  doing,  as  we  should  consider  it  a 
violation  of  our  consciences  thus  u  to  bow  down  ourselves"  in 
an  act  of  adoration  and  worship  which  is  forbidden  by  the 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          119 

law  of  God,  and  to  that  which  has  in  itself  neither  the  power 
nor  attributes  of  Deity. 

Three  days  ago  disturbances  took  place  here,  which,  as 
they  terminated  in  a  change  of  government,  may  be  call 
ed  a  Revolution.  On  the  latter  part  of  Sabbath  after 
noon,  our  attention  was  arrested  by  the  unusual  noise  and 
excitement  among  the  Urbanos  (national  guards)  who  rendez 
vous  in  the  Convent  opposite,  and  a  body  of  them  soon  moved 
off  to  what  appeared  to  be  the  scene  of  the  commotion.  We 
heard  firing,  and  three  or  four  wounded  men  were  soon  car 
ried  by  on  litters,  the  sight  of  whose  ghastly  wounds  and 
fresh-shed  blood  gave  us  something  of  an  idea  of  the  horrors 
of  war.  The  soldiers  and  people  were  full  of  enthusiasm, 
and  even  the  boys  partook  largely  in  it.  From  all,  the  cries 
of  "  Viva  la  Constitucion  !  Yiva  la  Libertad  !"  were  loud  and 
frequent.  In  the  evening  the  bells  rang,  and  the  city  was 
illuminated. 

The  circumstances  of  the  affair  were,  that  a  body  of  the 
Urbanos  and  queen's  troops,  on  their  way  to  get  him  to  de 
clare  the  constitution,  were  met  by  the  governor  whom  they 
sought,  with  a  small  number  of  the  queen's  troops,  or  a  kind 
of  gens  d'armes,  as  a  body-guard,  whom,  after  some  parleying, 
he  ordered  to  fire  on  the  Urbanos.  This  was  returned  by 
them  with  fatal  effect,  three  of  the  governor's  guard  being 
killed,  two  or  three  wounded,  and,  on  the  other  side,  two  of 
the  troops  of  the  line  wounded.  The  governor  retired  to  a 
convent  in  the  vicinity,  but  soon  yielded  himself  to  the  popu 
lar  current ;  and  thus  the  Government  of  the  city  became 
constitutional.  On  Monday,  the  next  day,  the  troops,  to  the 
number  of  about  eight  hundred  or  one  thousand,  met  in  the 
Constitutional  (before  Royal)  Square,  and  with  great  enthu 
siasm,  swore  by  acclamation  to  the  Constitution. 

The  houses  were  decorated  with  red  and  white  hangings  ; 
and  from  our  pleasant  situation  in  the  balcony  of  a  coffee 
house,  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  Spanish  ladies  in  those  of 


120  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

the  surrounding  buildings,  and  of  the  people  and  troops  in 
the  Square  below.  On  the  next  day,  twelve  or  fifteen  hun 
dred  troops  left  here  for  Granada,  to  do,  or  help  to  do  there, 
what  has  been  done  here.  Wives  embraced  their  husbands,  mo 
thers  their  sons,  with  an  apparent  affection  that  was  itself 
quite  affecting.  In  the  evening,  the  city  was  again  splen 
didly  illuminated,  as  it  had  been  the  two  preceding  nights, 
and  presented  a  very  brilliant  appearance.  The  high  tower 
of  the  cathedral  in  particular,  looked  predominantly  bright, 
lighted,  as  it  was,  to  its  top,  by  four  rows  of  lamps,  in  all 
making  one  hundred. 

The  Convent  opposite  us,  as  well  as  all  in  the  city,  had  been 
evacuated  by  their  tenants,  the  Friars,  in  the  night,  four  or 
five  days  previous,  for  fear  of  disturbances  similar  to  those  that 
have  lately  taken  place  at  Barcelona  and  other  places  in  Spain, 
where  many  of  their  order  have  been  maltreated  and  murdered. 
Nine  hundred  of  these  useless  establishments  have  been  sup 
pressed  by  an  order  from  the  Government  at  Madrid,  and 
their  property  devoted  to  the  liquidation  of  the  National  debt. 
Witnessing  as  we  did,  from  the  balcony,  the  strong  enthusiasm 
and  rapid  motions  of  the  soldiers  and  people,  with  the  stars 
and  stripes  of  our  native  country  floating  over  our  heads — a 
signal  of  sympathy,  wherever  it  waves,  with  those  struggling 
for  national  liberty — we  could  not  but  be  much  excited,  though 
the  whole  scene  was  but  little  in  unison  with  that  holy  day 
upon  which  it  was  transacted. 

No  real  excesses  have  been  committed,  though  a  few  of  the 
little  buildings  where  the  gate  duty  is  collected  have  been 
burned,  and,  much  to  the  joy  of  the  country  people  around, 
that  burden  has  been  for  a  few  days  taken  off,  and  a  consi 
derable  reduction  of  it  permanently  made.  How  false  and 
injurious  is  this  system  of  internal  dutie's,  cramping  the  com 
merce  and  industry  of  the  nation,  for  the  short-sighted  reason 
of  temporarily  swelling  the  treasures  of  government. 

The  number  of  poor  in  this  city  is  very  great ;  we  may  well 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          121 

say  that  we  have  never  seen  poverty  to  be  compared  with  the 
dreadful  wretchedness  which  here  meets  our  eye  at  almost 
every  step.  Their  sufferings  in  the  rainy  season  must  be  dis 
tressingly  great,  as  they  have  not  the  abundance  of  fruit  upon 
which  they  can  now  subsist  for  almost  nothing,  neither  a  com 
fortable  shelter,  without  which,  in  the  warmer  part  of  the 
year,  they  may  live  without  much  suffering.  In  the  winter, 
also,  they  are  almost  entirely  without  employ,  so  that  they 
have  hardly  any  means  of  support,  and  indeed,  not  unfre- 
quently,  starve  to  death. 

How  striking  is  the  contrast  with  our  own  happy  country, 
where  no  one  who  is  able  to  work  need  suffer  for  want  of  food, 
and  where  there  is  not  that  abrupt  and  painful  descent  from 
ample  wealth  and  comfortable  circumstances  on  one  hand,  to 
grinding  poverty  and  absolute  starvation  on  the  other !  With 
a  more  enterprising,  energetic,  and  equal  government,  freed 
from  the  absurd,  expensive  rites,  and  the  debasing,  cramping 
influence  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion,  this  nation  might 
assume  something  of  its  former  importance  and  grandeur  among 
the  other  powers  of  Europe,  and  have  that  general  internal 
prosperity  which  always  follows  the  impartial  administration 
of  just  and  equal  laws. 

It  is  evident  the  church  of  Rome  has  not  that  power  and 
influence  over  this  people  which  she  possessed  not  many  years 
ago,  and,  indeed,  within  a  very  few  years  her  power  has  been 
much  weakened.  If  this  revolution  should  terminate,  as  I  hope 
it  will,  in  the  attainment  of  a  more  free  and  constitutional 
form  of  government,  it  will  be  an  invaluable  blessing  to  this 
nation ;  but  the  great  fear  is,  that  the  object  of  its  honest 
promoters  may  be  defeated  by  the  ambition  and  caprice  of 
selfish,  designing  men.  Alas !  what  a  Golgotha  is  this 
land  !  What,  with  the  early  wars  of  the  Goths  and  Romans  j 
those  of  the  Spaniards  and  Moors  ;  the  more  modern  cam 
paigns  of  Napoleon  and  Lord  Wellington ;  the  civil  wars 
which  have  desolated  the  country,  and  are  now  raging  in  some 
6 


122  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

parts  of  it ;  the  violence  of  banditti  and  assassins ;  how  truly 
may  it  be  said  that  there  is  hardly  a  foot  of  the  soil  not  fat 
tened  with  human  blood  !  Oh  !  when,  throughout  the  world, 
shall  the  insatiate  sword  be  sheathed,  and  no  more  drink  up 
the  blood  of  millions,  whom  it  "has  cut  off  even  in  the  very 
blossoms  of  their  sins,"  and  sent  reeking  into  eternity  ? 

The  circumstances  of  his  arrival  at  this  salubrious 
city  of  Andalusia,  and  his  reception  there  by  his  uncle, 
are  thus  given  in  a  letter  to  his  mother,  dated  Malaga, 
September  10,  1835. 

After  a  fine  run  from  Gibraltar  we  came  in  sight,  early  on 
the  morning  of  August  1st,  of  the  vine-clad  and  romantic  hills 
of  Malaga,  and,  about  twelve,  at  noon,  cast  anchor  under  the 
protection  of  its  noble  Mole.  Here  we  were  soon  visited  along 
side  by  the  health  officer,  who,  after  various  inquiries,  ap 
pointed  us  eight  days  quarantine  to  observe  ;  the  regulations 
of  which  are  very  strict,  no  person  being  allowed  to  go  on 
shore  from,  or  come  on  board  a  vessel  in  that  state,  and  all 
letters  and  packages  delivered  at  the  side,  are  immersed  or 
sprinkled  with  water  or  vinegar.  Mr.  Strachan,  the  Vice 
Consul,  came  off  alongside  the  same  day,  bringing  uncle's  re 
gards  and  welcome.  The  next  day  uncle  himself  came  off, 
and  then  we  first  saw  him  of  whom  we  have  so  often  and  fondly 
heard  you  speak.  He  stopped  a  short  time  alongside,  and 
inquired  if  we  had  any  little  wants  to  be  supplied,  then  bade 
us  good  morning,  and  returned  to  the  shore.  In  the  course 
of  a  few  days  he  sent  us  off  a  supply  of  fine  fruit,  wine,  and 
milk,  which  it  was  pleasant  to  have  on  the  table  for  the  use 
of  the  captain  and  mates. 

On  the  forenoon  of  Saturday,  August  8th  (having  received 
another  visit  of  the  Health  Officer,  to  be  seen  by  whom  all  on 
board  are  obliged  to  range  themselves  at  the  side  of  the  ship), 
and  Mr.  Strachan  having  come  off  to  accompany  us,  we 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          123 

landed,  and,  after  a  few  minutes'  walk,  arrived  at  uncle's  house, 
and  were  kindly  and  hospitably  received  by  him.  He  was 
very  sorry  to  find  me  so  unwell,  but  "  hoped  he  should  be  able 
to  bring  me  round  again."  It  was  not  long  before  I  began  to 
feel  at  home  under  his  hospitable  roof,  and,  under  his  care, 
with  the  comforts  and  commodious  accommodations  I  enjoy, 
I  soon  began  to  improve  in  health.  The  house  is  pleasantly 
situated  on  the  street  of  St.  Austin,  which  leads  from  one  of 
the  entrances  to  the  Cathedral,  to  the  Calle  de  Granada,  one 
of  the  principal  streets  of  the  city.  Directly  opposite  is  a 
large  convent,  which,  as  well  as  all  the  other  convents  in 
Malaga*  was  vacated  by  its  occupants  a  few  days  previous  to 
the  late  revolution,  August  23d. 

You  enter  the  house  from  a  small  square,  one  side  of  which 
it  forms  ;  the  other  three  are  the  rectangular  walls  of  a  nun 
nery.  Passing  through  a  small  double  entry,  guarded  with 
strong  heavy  doors,  you  are  upon  the  first  floor  of  the  house, 
which  is  paved  with  brick,  and  used  for  stable  and  carriage- 
house,  and  has,  directly  in  the  centre,  with  three  sides  of  the 
house  looking  down  upon  it,  a  beautiful  little  open  court,  paved 
with  marble,  having  at  one  end  a  purling  fountain  of  pure 
water,  discharging  itself  into  a  marble  reservoir,  containing 
two  fine  gold  fish,  and  shaded  by  a  latticed  arbor  of  honey 
suckle,  the  whole  most  tastefully  adorned  with  a  great  variety 
of  plants  in  large  earthen  pots  and  artificial  borders  at  the 
sides,  from  which  many  are  trained  up  the  walls  of  the  house. 
Over  the  dining-room  window  is  quite  a  large  wooden  frame 
of  lattice-work,  entirely  covered  with  a  green  running  plant, 
which  makes  an  agreeable  screen  from  the  hot  rays  of  the  sun. 

Ascending  a  few  steps  is  the  Consulate  on  the  right,  a  fine 
cool  place,  where  the  clerks  write  and  the  entrances  and  clear 
ances  are  made  out,  uncle  giving  his  signature  in  his  Library 
on  the  next  floor,  to  which,  turning  to  the  left  from  the  Con 
sulate,  you  arrive  by  ascending  a  broad  open  flight  of  stairs. 
On  this  floor,  which  is  of  square  bricks  highly  polished,  is  a 


/. 


124:  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

Ball,  into  which  you  first  enter,  on  one  side  of  which  is  uncle's 
bed-room  and  library,  and  at  its  end  on  the  other,  a  fine  sum 
mer  parlor,  fronting  on  one  side  the  street,  and  on  the  other 
the  cool,  refreshing  court.  All  these,  as  well  as  the  dining 
room,  to  which  you  come  by  another  broad  flight  of  stairs,  are 
most  richly  and  classically  adorned  with  paintings  of  the  best 
masters,  some  of  them  very  old  and  rare,  and  exquisitely  fine 
and  beautiful.  One,  in  particular,  commands  the  admiration 
of  all  who  behold  it,  the  picture  of  St.  Jerome  translating  the 
Bible,  which  is  placed  over  the  door  of  the  dining  room,  im 
mediately  opposite  uncle  George's  seat  at  the  table,  and  stands 
out  from  the  canvas  with  all  the  vivid  reality  of  life  itself. 
Indeed,  almost  the  whole  house  is  as  it  were  a  gallery  of  paint 
ings,  and  those  of  the  highest  character.  At  the  end  of  the 
parlor  opposite  the  door,  is  the  venerable  portrait  of  Grand 
father  Barrell. 

On  the  next  floor  above  is  our  comfortable  suite  of  rooms. 
Toward  our  generous  uncle  we  already  begin  to  feel  a  strong 
affection,  growing  with  our  increased  knowledge  of  his  charac 
ter  and  disposition,  and  his  noble  and  estimable  qualities.  In 
the  constitution  of  his  mind  there  are  united  with  a  strong 
and  vigorous  intellect,  a  capacious  and  retentive  memory,  un 
common  acuteness  of  perception  and  discrimination,  great 
delicacy  and  refinement  of  feeling,  a  frank,  humane,  and  be 
nevolent  spirit,  a  high  sense  of  honor,  great  energy  and  deci 
sion  of  character,  and  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  human 
nature,  joined  with  all  those  qualities,  except  piety,  which  make 
a  man  firm  and  enduring  as  a  friend,  and  forgiving  and  forget 
ful  of  an  enemy.  In  conversation  he  is  always  interesting, 
sometimes  truly  affable ;  and  he  is  ever  and  anon  emitting 
bright  scintillations  of  original  thought  and  native  feeling,  that 
indicate  the  rare  composition  and  delicate  texture  of  his  mind. 

With  all  these  excellencies,  you  may  well  believe,  he 
has  many  friends  ;  he  has  surely  no  enemies :  he  is  gene 
rally  known  throughout  the  south  of  Spain,  and  as  far  as 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          125 

his  name  is  known  ho  is  respected  and  esteemed.  Not  a  few 
are  the  individuals  whom  he  has  rescued  from  misery,  poverty, 
and  disgrace,  who  live  to  bless  and  revere  his  name.  He  has 
considerable  influence  with  government,  and  has  just  obtained 
permission  from  the  Queen,  for  which  he  has  long  been  labor 
ing,  to  build  a  cemetery  for  the  burial  of  Americans  who  may 
fall  in  this  foreign  clime.  Perhaps  you  have  seen  a  remark 
made  by  Mr.  Everett,  whem  Ambassador  at  Madrid,  that,  if 
he  should  die  there,  he  could  not  be  buried  within  the  walls 
of  the  city.  Such  is,  or  has  been,  the  intolerance  of  the  reli 
gion  of  Spain.  The  iron  yoke,  we  hope,  is  now  being  broken 
by  an  "aggrieved,  insulted,  much-abused  people." 

October  Sth. — Some  days  since,  we  visited  the  very  exten 
sive  Moorish  Castle  back  of  the  Alameda,  near  the  foot  of 
which  the  sea  formerly  beat,  but  is  now  distant  many  rods : 
the  intervening  land,  upon  which  handsome  blocks  of  buildings 
now  stand  and  the  Alameda  partly  occupies,  being  made  by 
the  mud  driven  in  from  the  mouth  of  the  little  river  Guadel- 
medina.  The  Castle  is  now  occupied  as  a  military  arsenal, 
soldiers'  barracks,  hospital,  etc.,  though  in  some  parts,  from 
the  neglect  of  government,  it  is  in  a  ruinous  condition.  The 
main  entrance  is  into  a  large  open  court,  all  sides  of  which 
the  building  surrounds,  and  on  one  were  a  number  of  men  at 
work  casting  bullets,  and  fifteen  or  twenty  immense  bronze 
cannon,  and  several  mortars  also  of  the  same  material.  It  is 
constructed  with  great  regularity  and  prodigious  strength,  and 
shows  the  Moors  to  have  been  an  intelligent  and  industrious 
people.  The  whole  building,  with  its  dark,  time-worn,  battle- 
mented  walls,  has  a  very  ancient  and  romantic  appearance. 

Here  we  are  in  the  province  of  Granada,  the  conquest  of 
which  Washington  Irving  has  described  with  such  graphic 
elegance ;  the  scene  of  the  achievements  of  G-onzalo  de  Cordova, 
and  of  the  stubborn  bravery  of  the  chivalric  Moors,  who  were 
once  supreme  lords  of  the  soil  on  which  we  now  tread,  with 
the  ruinous  monuments  of  whose  industry  and  skill  we  are 


126  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

here  and  there  surrounded.  A  fortnight  since  I  visited  the 
Cathedral  with  Henry.  We  took  a  regular  survey  of  it,  though 
I  was  not  able,  and  shall  not  attempt  till  my  health  is  compe 
tent  for  it,  to  go  up  into  the  tower.  It  is,  indeed,  a  magnifi 
cent  structure.  There  are  in  the  choir  six  clusters  or  blocks 
of  white  marble  pillars  ;  each  block  containing  four  elegantly- 
wrought  fluted  columns,  all  fronting  a  different  way,  sixty-seven 
feet  in  height.  There  are  also  eight  others  of  these  isolated 
clusters,  besides  twenty  pillars  at  the  sides  of  the  Cathedral. 
The  height  inside  to  the  vaulted  roof  is  132  feet ;  breadth 
165,  and  length  323.  There  are  fourteen  niches  for  images 
and  statuary,  and  twelve  chapels.  That  of  the  Incarnation  is 
exceedingly  rich  and  splendid,  and  contains  two  fine  pieces  of 
sculpture,  the  statues,  in  a  kneeling  position,  of  two  former 
bishops  of  Malaga.  There  is  also,  in  a  niche  at  one  end  of  the 
choir,  an  excellent  piece  of  sculpture,  the  Virgin  Mary  sup 
porting  the  dead  body  of  our  Saviour ;  but  there  is  something 
so  gross  and  revolting  in  these  factitious  representations,  that 
I  do  not  enjoy  much  in  looking  at  them. 

In  the  church  of  the  convent  opposite  us,  is  a  miserable 
image  of  our  Saviour  in  a  bed,  dressed  most  absurdly  with 
trinkets  and  finery,  and  presenting  a  most  disgustingly  ridicu 
lous  and  odious  appearance.  The  sides  of  the  choir  are  most 
ingeniously  and  elegantly  carved,  in  dark  mahogany,  with 
figures  of  saints,  ecclesiastics,  etc.,  so  natural  and  true,  that 
even  the  very  expression  of  the  countenance  can  be  observed. 
The  grand  altar,  or  tabernacle,  is  of  pure  white  marble,  as 
cended  by  several  steps.  The  music  of  the  choir  is  very 
fine,  the  performers  being  some  of  the  same  we  have  heard 
with  so  much  exquisite  delight  in  the  church  adjoining  Uncle's 
house.  There  are  two  immense  organs,  with  large  pipes 
terminating  horizontally,  one  on  each  side  of  the  choir,  about 
thirty  feet  above  the  floor  of  the  Cathedral.  The  height  of 
the  tower  of  the  Cathedral  is  309  feet :  it  looms  up  in  the  sky 
at  a  long  distance  from  the  city ;  from  every  point  you  view 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          127 

it,  and  the  whole  building  rises  high  above  everything  around 
it,  presenting  a  grand  and  venerable  appearance. 

October  19^,  1835. — A  conspiracy  of  a  most  infamous 
character  was  discovered  a  day  or  two  since,  on  the'  eve  of  its 
execution,  by  the  confession  of  one  of  the  conspirators.  The 
plot  was  to  murder  the  Governor,  and  some  other  influential 
persons,  burn  the  papers  of  the  Junta,  and,  probably,  commit 
other  depredations,  which  would  have  made  the  city  a  scene 
of  violence,  rapine,  and  bloodshed.  As  soon  as  it  was  dis 
covered,  the  urbanos,  or  nacionales,  as  they  are  now  called, 
repaired  in  great  numbers  to  protect  the  Governor  from  harm. 
Several  of  the  conspirators  were  arrested,  and  some  made 
their  escape  to  the  mountains  around  this  city — one,  in  the 
hurry  of  his  flight,  leaving  his  cloak  in  the  street.  One  of 
the  chief  persons  concerned  was  a  member  of  the  late  Junta, 
which  has  been  dissolved  for  a  new  election. 

On  Friday  afternoon,  four  men  were  put  to  death  in  this 
city  in  a  most  summary  manner.  They  had  been  confined 
for  some  time  in  prison,  for  political  and  other  offences. 
Their  punishment  has  been  delayed  by  the  proper  authorities 
for  a  long-  time,  probably  from  the  influence  of  secret  bribery, 
which  has  so  exasperated  the  people,  that  at  the  time  above 
mentioned,  a  body  of  the  nacionales  repaired  to  their  prison, 
took  them  out  into  the  dry  bed  of  the  Guadelmedina,  and  shot 
them  without  any  delay,  except  to  permit  them  to  make  their 
wills,  and  confess  to  a  priest.  There  are  good  laws,  but  they 
are  so  shamefully  contravened  by  the  chicanery  and  techni 
calities  of  the  scriveners  and  lawyers,  as  to  cause  the  people 
to  take  the  reparation  of  their  wrongs  into  their  own  hands. 

October  28th. — Yesterday  Mr.  Strachan,  Henry,  and  my 
self  made  a  jaunt  of  about  eight  miles  into  the  mountainous 
country  which  surrounds  Malaga.  We  started  on  horseback 
from  the  house  about  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  taking 
the  road  to  Velez  Malaga,  in  which  we  continued  to  a  short 
distance  beyond  the  village  of  Palo,  two  or  three  miles  from 


128  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

Malaga.  So  far  the  road  was  good  for  carnages,  but  we 
then  turned  off  into  a  narrow  footpath,  and  soon  began  to 
ascend  the  mountains  in  single  file,  our  guide  in  front,  and 
we  following  in  his  steps. 

We  arrived  in  a  short  time  to  a  great  height,  many  hun 
dred  feet  above  the  sea,  winding  up  loftj  mountains  from 
whence  the  prospect  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  the  surround 
ing  country  was  very  extensive  and  beautiful.  The  sides  of 
the  mountains,  cultivated  with  innumerable  grape-vines,  dis 
posed  with  great  regularity,  here  and  there  interspersed  with 
a  neat,  white  farm-house,  and  sometimes  a  beautiful  olive- 
grove,  rendered  the  scene  most  charmingly  picturesque  and 
beautiful.  Sometimes  we  were  on  the  ridge  of  a  high  hill, 
cultivated  on  each  side,  with  narrow  valleys  at  its  foot,  shut 
in  at  all  points  by  the  surrounding  mountains,  presenting  a 
tasteful  picture  of  rural  scenery,  though  unlike  that  in  Ame 
rica  in  its  almost  entire  destitution  of  trees. 

Much  of  the  road  was  very  rough  and  laborious  for  the 
horses,  who,  being  accustomed  to  these  mountain  paths,  are 
very  sure-footed  animals.  Not  even  the  small  attention  of 
throwing  the  loose  stones  out  of  the  way  had  been  bestowed 
upon  it,  which  the  labor  of  a  few  men,  with  proper  instru 
ments,  might  render  very  smooth  and  commodious.  It  was 
some  of  the  way  on  the  almost  perpendicular  side  of  the 
mountain,  where  a  single  false  step  of  the  horse  would  have 
been  almost  certain  death  to  his  rider,  and  perhaps  to  him 
also ;  but  by  the  kind  care  of  our  heavenly  Father,  we  were 
preserved  from  all  accident,  both  in  our  going  out  and  com 
ing  in.  We  arrived  at  the  farm-house,  the  limit  of  our  ride 
(with  the  owner  of  which  Mr.  S.  was  previously  acquainted), 
about  twelve  o'clock,  having  been  on  horseback  four  hours, 
but  not  fatigued  by  the  ride. 

The  farm-house  did  not  present  that  air  of  tidy  neatness 
and  comfort  which  is  so  common  in  those  of  New  England. 
The  room  in  which  we  dined  was  used  for  cooking,  eating, 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          129 

and  work ;  and  at  one  end,  with  no  partition  between,  is  the 
wine-press.  The  process  of  expressing  the  juice  is  exceed 
ingly  dirty  and  ill-contrived  :  the  grapes  were  scraped  up 
from  the  ground  where  they  lay,  with  no  small  proportion  of 
dust  and  dirt  of  various  deiScriptions,  thrown  upon  the  floor 
of  the  press,  where  they  are  first  trodden  by  a  man  with 
grass  shoes  on,  and  then  pressed  by  means  of  a  long,  heavy 
lever,  connected  with  a  jack-screw  to  a  square  platform  that 
is  placed  upon  the  bruised  grapes.  The  juice  runs  into  a 
round  vat  sunk  in  the  ground,  bricked  up  at  its  sides,  its  top 
just  coming  above  the  ground,  and  without  any  cover  ex 
posed  to  all  the  dirt  and  dust  around. 

The  floor  of  the  press  is  of  square  tiles,  and  no  atten 
tion  is  paid  to  keeping  it  clean,  being  spit  and  trod  upon 
indiscriminately.  We  saw  the  must  in  large  jars,  undergoing 
the  process  of  fermentation,  which,  it  is  true,  carries  off  most 
of  the  impurities  ;  but  how  much  better  would  the  wine  be  if 
it  was  made  in  a  neater  and  more  ingenious  manner.  It  is 
kept  fermenting  in  these  jars  for  some  days  or  weeks,  as  the 
case  may  be  ;  then  put  into  hog-skins,  covered  on  the  inside 
with  pitch,  and  carried  on  the  backs  of  mules  to  the  wine- 
cellars  of  the  city,  where  brandy  is  added,  and  the  process 
of  fermentation  finished. 

We  had  quite  a  good  dinner,  though  in  rather  uncivilized 
style,  all  drinking  from  the  same  tumbler,  and  having  a 
scanty  supply  of  knives  and  forks.  The  principal  dish  was 
rice  and  Spanish  peas,  boiled  with  a  fowl,  which  was  served 
up  afterwards.  We  then  had  grapes,  honey,  and  preserved 
potatoes.  We  started  on  our  way  back  about  ten  minutes 
before  four  by  a  different  and  more  direct  way  than  that  by 
which  we  came,  and  arrived  at  the  house  a  little  before  seven, 
having  ridden  during  the  last  part  of  our  way  at  a  very  rapid 
rate,  quite  in  cavalier  style,  in  fine  spirits  from  the  exhilarat 
ing  effects  of  our  exercise,  and  with  much  reason  to  acknow 
ledge  the  watchful  care  of  a  kind  Providence. 
6* 


130  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

December  24th. — To-night  is  the  eve  of  Christmas,  which 
the  Spaniards  call  "  NOCHE  BUENA,"  and  the  bells  are  ringing 
at  intervals  in  anticipation  of  the  feast.  Christmas-eve  is 
celebrated  with  great  festivity  and  rejoicing.  The  Cathedral 
is  kept  open  to  a  late  hour  of  the  night,  with  singing  and 
music . 

We  have  called  lately  on  Mr.  Loring,  the  great  American 
fruit  and  wine  merchant ;  visited  his  wine-cellars,  which  seem  ex 
tensive  enough  to  load  many  ships.  We  tasted  of  many  kinds  of 
wine,  and  of  some  of  the  pure  must,  which  was  rather  sweet  and 
cloying.  Indeed,  that  which  has  some  admixture  of  spirit  is  by 
far  more  palatable,  though  it  is  possible  to  send  it  pure  across 
the  Atlantic  in  bottles  or  demijohns  without  injury ;  but  this 
is  seldom  done.  There  is  a  method  they  have  of  stopping 
the  process  of  fermentation,  by  burning  a  sulphur  match  in 
the  cask  which  contains  the  must,  and  thoroughly  impreg 
nating  it  with  the  smoke.  A  kind  of  wine,  or  more  properly 
cordial,  called  "  Lacryma  Christi,*'  was  very  mild  and 
delicate,  and  had  a  fine  flavor,  suiting  our  palates  more 
than  any  other  we  tasted,  though  by  connoisseurs,  that 
which  had  more  brandy  in  it  would  be  much  preferred.  The 
sweet  wine  is  composed  of  four  ingredients,  according  to 
Mr.  L.,  viz.,  fermented  must,  arrope  (which  is  the  juice  of 
the  grape  boiled  down  to  the  consistency  of  molasses),  bran 
dy,  and  new  unfermented  must.  It  is  a  wine  much  used  by 
the  ladies,  is  highly  nutritious,  and  exceedingly  grateful  to 
the  taste. 

Amidst  so  much  that  was  outward  and  dissipating, 
the  culture  of  the  inner  man,  and  the  improvement 
of  opportunities  of  doing  good  were  not  neglected,  as 
will  be  seen  by  the  selections  that  follow  from  the 
Private  Journal. 

At  Uncle  Georgeh,  Malaga ,  August  ISth. — Sabbath. — 
Here  am  I,  on  this  holy  day,  far  separated  from  my  beloved 


OF    NATHANIEL    OHEEVEK,    M.D.  13  i 

relatives  at  home,  and  the  enjoyment  of  the  high  Christian 
privileges  with  which  I  was  so  long  favored  there  ;  but,  blessed 
be  the  Lord,  I  am  not  denied  the  precious  privilege  of  prayer, 
or  the  perusal  of  his  holy  Word.  The  Sabbath  here  is  far 
different  from  the  same  day  in  my  own  land,  being  a  day  of 
recreation  and  amusement,  and  not  sanctified  and  devoted,  as 
it  should  be,  to  the  exclusive  worship  and  service  of  God. 
We  find,  as  we  expected,  many  new  temptations  assailing  us, 
and  we  need  much  grace  successfully  to  resist  them.  Uncle 
George  is  a  most  agreeable,  intelligent,  and  interesting  man  ; 
yet  it  requires  much  wisdom  to  pursue  a~  judicious,  and.  at 
the  same  time,  a  firm  and  upright  course  before  him.  But 
thy  grace,  0  Lord,  is  sufficient  for  every  emergency,  and 
thou  wilt  give  liberally  to  all  who  ask  of  thee  in  truth.  Oh, 
grant  it  to  us  in  this  our  new  situation  of  trial  and  temp 
tation,  and  make  thy  strength  perfect  in  our  weakness. 

September  27th,  Sabbath  afternoon. — How  greatly  do  we 
miss  the  precious  services  of  this  holy  day,  which  we  enjoyed 
at  home,  there  being  none  here  but  in  the  Catholic  forms,  in 
which  we  have  no  inclination  to  partake  ;  for  they  are  so  pal 
pably  gross,  and  addressed  to  the  senses — so  superstitious  arid 
absurd,  that  we  cannot  be  edified  by  witnessing  them,  but 
only  disgusted,  and  indignant  with  those  who  perpetuate  such 
a  system  of  deception  and  error. 

October  \Sth. — I  have  this  week  had  quite  a  severe  ill  turn, 
but  am  now  much  better.  I  think  I  have  felt  in  a  more 
spiritual  frame  of  mind  for  a  few  days,  than  for  some  time 
past.  It  is  in  kindness,  no  doubt,  that  the  Lord  thus  again 
and  again  afflicts  me  with  the  stroke  of  his  hand,  to  keep  me 
humble  and  in  a  state  of  constant  dependence  upon  himself. 
And  though  I  know  his  grace  is  sufficient  for  me  in  any  situ 
ation,  yet  he  may  be  thus  gradually  restoring  me  to  health  ; 
giving  me  occasional  checks  in  my  convalescent  progress,  to 
preserve  me  from  vain  self-reliance,  and  make  me  feel  that 
all  my  strength  is  in  him. 


132  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

November  1st,  Sabbath  evening. — We,  this  forenoon,  at 
twelve  o'clock,  attended  service  in  the  Episcopal  form,  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Mark,  the  English  Consul,  having  been  intro 
duced  by  our  Uncle  to  his  family,  with  whom  the  Consul 
reads  the  Church  Service  every  Sabbath  in  private.  It  is 
pleasant  to  enjoy  even  a  shadow  of  the  delightful  privileges 
we  have  left  behind  us  in  our  own  land.  I  yesterday  had  the 
pleasure  of  giving  a  Spanish  Testament  and  some  Tracts  to 
a  young  man  whom  we  met  in  an  excursion  to  the  country 
the  first  of  the  week,  and  to  whom  I  then  promised  one  when 
he  should  come  for  it.  May  the  Holy  Spirit  accompany  its 
truths  to  him,  and  to  the  hearts  of  all  who  may  read  it,  and 
make  it  effectual  to  the  salvation  of  their  immortal  souls. 

November  2Qth. — How  rapidly  has  the  time  flown  since  we 
came  here,  and  yet  how  little  seem  I  to  have  done — how  lit 
tle  to  have  grown  in  grace  !  We  see  much  sin  around  us, 
and  are  compelled  to  hear  much  sinful  conversation ;  but  I 
think  I  can  truly  say,  the  more  I  see  of  sin,  the  worse  it 
appears,  tho  more  revolting,  and  odious  ;  and,  oh  !  may  I  have 
grace  to  preserve  me  from  the  evil  influence  of  such  an  im 
pure,  moral  atmosphere.  For  a  week  past  I  have  been  in 
very  comfortable  health,  though,  for  some  time  previous,  I 
was  much  afflicted  with  my  asthma. 

December  6th. — The  climate  is  very  mild  and  beneficial,  and 
I  am  much  better  than  when  I  arrived  here,  but  still  I  am 
not  rid  of  the  asthma ;  it  yet  clings  to  my  constitution.  O 
Lord,  prepare  me  to  suffer  whatever  thou  shalt  lay  upon  me ; 
and  prepare  me  for  death,  in  whatever  shape  it  may  come ; 
by  shipwreck,  or  violence,  or  the  lingering,  heavy  hand  of  dis 
ease.  Oh  !  may  my  soul  be  ready  and  waiting  for  its  dismissal 
from  the  body,  and  prepared  to  unite  in  the  blessed  enjoyment 
of  heaven.  On  the  fifteenth  of  November  I  renewed  my 
solemn  covenant  with  God,  being  its  fifth  anniversary,  but 
not  with  the  freedom  I  could  wish,  much  of  the  day  being  con 
sumed  in  the  company  of  the  officers  of  the  United  States  ship 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          133 

John  Adams,  then  in  port.  But  in  whatever  circumstances 
I  may  be  placed,  may  I  ever  have  a  deep  and  constant  sense 
of  its  solemn  obligations.  We  have  lately  had  the  pleasure 
of  distributing  several  Spanish  Testaments  ;  since  we  arrived, 
have  given  away  seventeen.  May  their  blessed  truths,  though 
mixed  with  error  by  the  translator,  be  blessed  to  the  eternal 
salvation  of  all  who  read  them. 

After  nearly  five  months  at  Malaga,  during  which 
time  the  improvement  in  the  health  of  the  invalid  was 
very  gradual,  it  was  judged  best  to  avail  ourselves  of 
an  opportunity  presented  for  a  longer  voyage.  The 
reasons  that  led  to  this  are  given  below  in  an  extract 
from  the  Journal  dedicated  to  his  sister. 

Malaga,  January  ls£,  1836. — The  old  year  has  finished  its 
ccfurse,  and  a  new  one  commenced,  involving  the  destiny  of 
millions  now  on  the  stage  of  being,  and  of  unnumbered  thou 
sands  yet  unborn.  I  was  not  asleep  when  the  clock  of  the 
Cathedral,  with  its  solemn  strokes,  announced  the  departing 
knell  of  the  old  year,  and  ushered  in  the  new.  Last  year,  at 
this  time,  I  was  at  our  own  happy  fireside  in  Hallowell,  en 
joying  the  sweet  endearing  society  of  mother  and  E  ,  and  all 
the  pleasures  and  blessings  with  which,  as  a  family,  we 
have  always  been  so  abundantly  favored.  I  am  in  much 
better  health  now,  and  1  may  be  recovering,  although  I 
still  have  quite  frequent  attacks  of  my  obstinate  disorder. 
We  are  now  on  the  point  of  embarking  for  Marseilles,  and 
thence  to  New  Orleans,  in  the  ship  Julia,  in  order  to  try  the 
effect  of  a  long  sea  voyage. 

In  leaving  this  city  for  the  sea,  I  do  not  feel  many  regrets, 
convinced  as  I  am  that  it  will  be  better  for  me  to  be  on  the 
ocean.  There  is  no  Christian  Sabbath,  nor  any  but  an  apos 
tate  church ;  neither  have  we  found  any  intimate  friends  with 
whom  we  could  perfectly  correspond  in  feeling  or  principle. 


134  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

Yet  I  cannot  leave,  without  a  pang,  our  noble  Uncle,  nor  bid 
adieu  coldly  to  persons  and  scenes  with  whom  we  have  now 
been  conversant  for  the  space  of  five  months. 

With  a  free,  enterprising  national  government,  and  an  en 
lightened,  energetic  city  corporation,  Malaga  and  the  country 
around  might  exceed  the  richness  and  splendor  it  enjoyed 
under  the  elegant  reign  of  the  Moors.  But  an  expensive  civil 
war  in  the  northern  provinces,  a  wretched  system  of  import 
and  export  duties,  even  between  the  different  provinces,  and  a 
general  unenlightened  policy,  serve,  in  a  great  measure,  to 
cramp  and  depress  individual  enterprise,  and  keep  the  country 
from  occupying  that  place  among  the  nations,  which  her  rich 
and  extensive  resources  might  enable  her  to  hold.  One  thing 
is  favorable  :  the  illiberal,  tyrannising,  degrading  influence  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  religion  is  very  much  weakened,  and  the 
people  are  fast  emerging  from  that  galling  yoke  which  has  so 
long  ground  them  in  the  dust.  Oh  !  that  this  system  of  ab 
surd,  useless  ceremonies  and  superstitions  might  be  succeeded 
by  the  pure  preaching  and  practice  of  the  Grospel,  and  this 
people  become  truly  enlightened  and  Christian  ! 

We  insert  here  an  extract  from  a  letter  addressed  to 
the  mother  of  the  young  invalid,  by  Professor  Good 
win,  of  Bowdoin  College,  Maine,  then  absent  in  Eu 
rope.  He  had  spent  some  time  in  the  family,  at  Hal- 
lowell,  and,  as  an  instructor,  knew  the  capacities 
of  his  pupil.  He  gives  this  voluntary  expression  of 
feeling  at  that  time,  under  date  of  Paris,  February 
5th,  1836. 

"  MY  DEAK  MRS.  C ,    I  know  not  how  long 

c  the  boys'  intend  staying  at  Malaga,  but  I  suppose 
they  will  return  home  in  the  spring  or  summer  ap 
proaching.  If  they  should  stay  until  next  autumn,  I 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          135 

should  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  them  in 
Spain,  as  my  plan  is  (with  due  remembrance  of  the 
Apostle  James'  injunction),  to  spend  another  winter 
in  the  south  of  Europe.  I  wish  they  would  visit  Paris 
while  I  am  here.  A  short  stay,  if  it  were  but  a  fort 
night  or  three  wreeks,  would  be  very  profitable  to 
them.  And  then,  Nathaniel  would  enjoy  it  so  highly 
— so  infinitely  more  than  I  can.  "What  a  wonderful 
faculty  of  enjoying  things  he  seems  to  have  !  I  have 
often  been  struck  by  it  as  an  astonishing  instance  of 
compensation  in  the  arrangements  of  God's  provi 
dence,  that  he  who  has  so  much  to  dispirit  and  de 
press,  has  been  blessed  with  a  disposition  so  buoyant, 
and  animated,  and  joyous.  The  activity  and  energy 
of  his  mind  seem  to  mock  at  the  infirmities  of  the 
bady  ;  and  it  moves  off,  under  the  burden  of  a  most 
oppressive  disease,  with  as  much  ease  and  lightness  as 
another  could  do  unincumbered  and  free. 

This  elasticity,  this  cheerfulness,  this  sweet  and  hap 
py  submission,  is  doubtless  to  be  chiefly  ascribed  to  a 
moral  power — to  the  efficacy  of  an  inwrought,  practical 
piety,  and  to  the  special  aids  of  God's  gracious  Spirit. 
But  something  is  still  due  to  the  original  constitution 
of  his  mind.  What  an  ethereal  spirit  his  would  have 
been,  had  it  not  so  early  been  clogged  by  its  connec 
tion  with  bodily  infirmity !  I  rejoice  in  every  new 
encouragement  we  have  to  hope  and  pray  that  he  may 
soon  be  released  from  this  bondage,  and  be  enabled, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  health,  to  devote  his  powers  to 
the  active  service  of  his  Redeemer.  And  have  you 
not  reason  to  rejoice,  my  dear  madam,  that  whether 


136  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

your  beloved  son  be  restored  to  health  or  not  in  this 
world,  you  have  so  assured  a  confidence  that  he  will 
one  day  be  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  corruption 
into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God." 

We  turn  again  to  the  pages  of  the  Private  Journal 
after  embarking  from  Malaga,  and  close  this  chapter 
with  one  of  the  entries  made  at  Marseilles. 

Marseilles,  January  26th. — At  Mrs.  Sudds. — We  arrived 
here  on  the  13th  of  this  month,  and  shall  probably  sail  again 
for  New  Orleans  the  first  of  the  week.  I  was  visited  with  a 
violent  attack  of  my  inveterate  malady  the  day  after  we  came 
on  shore,  having  taken  cold  the  evening  previous  in  our  walk 
from  the  quay  in  a  fog,  and  through  wet,  muddy  streets.  Oh, 
how  much  I  need  the  blessed  support  of  Christian  grace  and 
consolation  to  enable  me  meekly  and  patiently  to  bear  this 
continued  affliction  !  It  may  now  be  considered  doubtful 
whether  I  ever  get  over  this  obstinate  malady,  though  I  can 
not  but  have  some  hope  of  it ;  but  expedient  after  expedient 
fails,  and  this  which  I  have  now  been  adopting,  is  far  from 
having  accomplished  the  desired  end,  though  it  has  been  of 
some  benefit. 

Let  me  now  make  up  my  mind  for  whatever  may  come — 
the  attacks  of  this  distressing,  obstinate  malady,  as  long  as  I 
live,  or  speedy  death  in  consequence  of  it.  I  may  possibly 
live  several  years  longer,  and  yet  continue  to  suffer  with  it 
much  as  I  have  done  for  eight  years  past ;  and  I  may  be 
speedily  summoned  from  this  world  by  the  hand  of  death. 
Oh !  blessed  Almighty  Saviour,  support  me  !  Grant,  oh, 
grant  the  light  of  thy  countenance,  the  consolations  of  thy 
grace,  the  joys  of  thy  salvation,  and  enable  me  with  perfect 
meekness  and  resignation  to  bear  all,  even  the  heaviest  strokes 
of  thy  chastising  hand.  I  have  wandered  as  a  lost  sheep, 
but  I  may  say  with  sincerity,  1  do  not  forget  thy  command- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          1ST 

ments.  Draw  me,  and  I  shall  run  after  thee.  "  Sweetly 
draw  me  by  thy  love."  Ob,  melt  down  my  soul  in  view  of 
it,  and  of  my  own  unutterable  hardness  and  guilt.  Trans 
form  and  cleanse  anew  my  sin-defiled  soul,  and  then  take  up 
thine  abode  as  the  sovereign  of  my  heart,  and  fit  me  per 
fectly  for  all  thy  holy  will  on  earth,  and  to  sing  in  heaven  at 
last,  where  sickness,  and  sorrow,  and  sin  shall  forever  flee,  the 
blessed  song  of  redeeming  love,  of  Moses  the  servant  of  God 
and  of  the  Lamb  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen. 


"  Let  us  be  patient.     These  severe  afflictions 

Not  from  the  ground  arise, 
But  oftentimes  celestial  benedictions 
Assume  this  dark  disguise. 

And,  though  at  times,  impetuous  with  emotion 

And  anguish  long  suppressed, 
The  swelling  heart  heaves,  moaning  like  the  ocean 

That  cannot  be  at  rest. 

We  will  be  patient,  and  assuage  the  feeling 

We  cannot  wholly  stay ; 
By  silence  sanctifying,  not  concealing, 

The  grief  that  must  have  sway." 


138  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 


CHAPTEE   VI. 

LIFE  AND  EXPERIENCE  ON  THE  OCEAN  AND  AT  NEW 
ORLEANS. 

Hope,  with  uplifted  foot,  set  free  from  earth. 
Pants  for  the  place  of  her  ethereal  birth  ; 
On  steady  wings  sails  through  the  immense  abyss, 
Plucks  amaranthine  joys  from  bowers  of  bliss, 
And  crowns  the  soul,  while  yet  a  mourner  here, 
With  wreaths  like  those  triumphant  spirits  wear. 
Hope,  as  an  anchor,  firm  and  sure,  holds  fast 
The  Christian  vessel,  and  defies  the  blast. 

COWPER. 

OUR  stay  at  Marseilles,  in  the  sunny  south  of 
France,  was  not  long ;  and  such  were  the  sufferings 
of  our  invalid  brother  all  the  time  while  there,  that 
after  an  excursion  to  Toulon  and  the  vicinity,  and  to 
the  birth-place  of  Massillon,  we  were  glad  to  embark 
again  on  the  Julia,  and  stand  out  to  sea  in  the  Gulf 
of  Lyons.  Almost  every  moment  he  could  use  a  pen 
while  ashore,  he  was  intent  with  recording  in  his 
Journal,  or  writing  to  friends,  descriptions  and  obser 
vations  upon  all  he  saw  and  heard,  and  a  history  of 
his  own  personal  doings  and  life.  They  embody 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          139 

much  entertaining  and  valuable  matter  for  a  traveller, 
and  they  open  windows  every  now  and  then  to  his 
inner  experience,  hopes,  and  consolations.  But  yield 
ing  to  the  obvious  necessity  of  condensation,  we  omit 
all  but  an  account  of  certain  remarkable  paintings 
seen  at  the  Health  Office  : 

The  largest,  which  is  on  the  right  as  you  enter,  represents 
an  actual  scene  iu  the  yellow  fever,  at  Barcelona — the  black, 
ghastly  corpse  of  a  man  who  has  just  expired  with  the  pest, 
a  sister  of  charity  standing  at  his  head,  and  feeling,  with  one 
hand,  the  pulse  of  the  young  physician  Maret,  who  was  sent 
from  France  with  other  doctors,  and  just  as  he  is  bleeding  his 
dying  patient,  is  seized  with  the  malady  himself.  His  eyes 
become  fixed  and  ghastly  ;  his  arm  drops  powerless  by  his 
side,  and  the  deathly  hue  overspreads  his  countenance  ;  his 
surgical  instruments  lie  open  by  him,  and  the  ligature  for 
bleeding  is  seen  upon  the  arm  of  the  dead  man.  A  man  and 
boy  looking  in  at  the  door,  are  struck  with  horror  at  the 
scene  ;  and  a  funeral  bier,  with  the  banner  of  the  church,  is 
passing  the  window.  The  kind,  benevolent  countenance  of 
the  sister  of  charity,  as  she  anxiously  seizes  the  hand  of  the 
sinking  physician,  is  portrayed  with  admirable  fidelity.  This 
fine  painting  was  executed  by  Yinchon,  exposed  in  1823,  and 
bought  by  the  king,  who  gave  it  to  the  Health  Intendance  of 
Marseilles. 

At  right  angles  with  this,  as  you  enter  the  door,  is  one 
most  terribly  true  to  life,  done  by  M.  Paulin  Guerin  of  Mar 
seilles,  portraying  the  sickening  horrors  of  the  plague  in  that 
city,  in  the  year  1720.  The  scene  is  an  open  esplanade,  near 
the  sea,  where,  in  the  violence  of  the  pest,  the  bodies  of  its 
victims  have  been  left  unburied,  to  poison  the  air  with  their 
fetid  exhalation.  The  most  recent  had  been  there  fifteen  days. 
The  Chevalier  Rose,  of  Marseilles  (the  Mayor,  I  believe,  of 
the  city),  who,  from  the  commencement  of  the  contagion,  had 


140  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

been  very  active,  and  exposed  himself  to  great  danger,  ex 
amines  this  scene  of  horror,  and  perceives  near  the  sea  two 
ancient  bastions,  hollow  within,  and  level  with  the  earth  ;  of 
these  he  determines  to  make  two  immense  tombs,  and  brings 
a  hundred  galley-slaves,  and  a  company  of  soldiers,  to  throw 
the  bodies  into  them,  in  which  he  sets  them  the  example  by 
taking  up  the  first  corpse  himself.  The  whole  are  soon  re 
moved,  and  quick-lime  thrown  in  upon  the  top  to  assist  in 
their  decomposition.  This  expedition  cost  the  life  of  all  but 
two  or  three  of  the  soldiers  and  galley-slaves.  M.  Rose 
escaped  with  a  short  sickness. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  door,  is  one  painted  in  1834, 
by  Horace  Vernet,  Director  of  the  Academy  of  Rome,  ex 
hibiting  a  scene  of  the  cholera  on  board  the  French  frigate, 
Melpomene,  portrayed  with  equal  fidelity  and  heart-sickening 
horror  as  the  others.  There  are  also  several  other  paintings, 
well  executed — one  of  St.  Rock,  in  a  country  desolated  by 
the  plague,  praying  to  the  Virgin  to  stop  it ;  another  repre 
sents  the  Bishop  of  Marseilles,  during  the  plague  of  1720, 
distributing  succor  to  the  sick  near  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  Over 
the  chimney  is  a  large  medallion  in  bas-relief,  done  in  marble 
by  Puget,  representing  the  pest  in  Milan. 

Although  the  emotions  produced  in  the  mind  by  examining 
paintings  of  this  character,  are  not  of  the  pleasant  description, 
yet  they  afford  such  wonderful  specimens  of  the  painter's  art 
and  power,  that  to  those  who  admire  this,  the  sight  of  them 
is  an  ample  reward  for  much  time  and  trouble  ;  and  we  are 
glad  to  have  had  the  opportunity  of  seeing  them. 

The  day  before  we  left  the  city,  we  visited,  with  Mr.  Caille, 
the  City  Library,  and  Museum,  where  are  to  be  seen  many 
Roman  remains,  Egyptian  curiosities,  and  rare  antiques,  be 
sides  a  large  collection  of  medals,  gold,  silver,  and  copper, 
and  a  plan  of  the  city  of  Marseilles,  ten  or  twelve  feet  square, 
made  in  cork,  with  all  the  streets,  squares,  houses,  etc.,  and 
the  harbor  represented  by  glass,  with  vessels  floating  on  it. 


M.D.  141 

There  are  two  Egyptian  mummies,  enveloped  in  numerous 
bandages,  their  wooden  cases  covered  with  hieroglyphic  figures, 
showing  probably  the  rank  and  character  of  the  subject  within 
them. 

In  excavating  a  new  dock  in  the  harbor,  there  have  been 
found,  within  a  few  years,  a  large  number  of  Roman  coins 
and  many  tombs  hewn  out  of  a  single  piece  of  marble,  like  a 
sarcophagus,  with  urns,  water-jars,  lamps,  etc.,  deposited  by 
the  friends  of  the  deceased  at  their  burial.  These  are  placed 
at  the  Museum,  and  also  many  fragments  of  columns  and  sta 
tues,  all  of  marble.  The  Library  is  large  and  well  arranged, 
and  connected  with  the  same  building  is  a  college  for  students. 
The  coins  and  medallions  are  arranged  in  cases,  with  a  hole  to 
contain  each  one,  and  seem  to  challenge  almost  the  labor  of  a 
man's  life  to  find  them  out. 

Ship  Julia,  Atlantic  Ocean,  February  14,  1836. — We  left 
Marseilles  on  the  fourth  of  this  month,  and,  this  morning,  about 
three  o'clock,  emerged  from  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar.  The 
voyage  has,  as  before,  had  a  fine  effect  upon  my  health  ;  so 
that,  as  to  any  actual  pain  or  particular  ailment  I  feel,  I  might 
say  "I  am  well."  But,  alas!  I  am  compelled  to  check  the 
exuberance  of  hope  and  bounding  elasticity  of  spirit,  by  the 
dread  certainty,  so  often  distressingly  realized,  that  even  a 
small  provocation  will  again  bring  upon  me,  with  all  its  sad, 
depressing  power,  the  renewed  attacks  of  my  disorder.  We 
have  now  a  fine  quiet  time  to  read,  write,  or  study,  which  I 
am  endeavoring  to  improve  with  some  regularity.  I  hope,  by 
the  end  of  the  voyage,  to  have  acquired  considerable  knowledge 
of  the  French,  by  the  excellent  manner  of  studying  in  the 
"  Essays,"  with  Henry,  and  to  increase  my  knowledge  of 
Spanish,  by  reading  in  the  beautiful  little  work  of  Gonzalo  de 
Cordova,  which,  I  think,  may  compare,  in  the  delicacy,  ro 
mantic  tenderness,  and  pathos  of  its  narration  and  sentiment, 
with  the  more  celebrated  works  of  "  Paul  and  Virginia,"  and 
"  Telemachus." 


142  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

I  am  also  slowly  reading  that  condensed  depository  of 
knowledge  on  all  general  subjects,  "  Blair's  Universal 
Preceptor,"  so  well  worthy  the  commendation  which  our 
deceased  father  has  bestowed  upon  it  in  one  of  the  blank 
leaves,  which  we  cherish  with  great  care,  as  we  do  everything 
relating  to  his  memory,  since  from  our  own  experience  we 
cannot  have  the  sweet  pleasure  of  referring  to  it.  I  also  recre 
ate  myself  with  Shakspeare's  Plays,  which  furnish  a  fund  of 
maxim  and  sentiment,  true  to  human  nature,  and  clothed  in 
the  powerful  language  of  his  vigorous,  massive  intellect,  and 
rich,  untrammelled  imagination. 

February  2\st. — "We  are  now  enjoying  the  mild  splendor 
of  a  new  moon,  which  shines  calm  and  peaceful  upon  the  wild 
waste  of  restless  waters  beneath,  pursuing  with  undeviating 
regularity  her  appointed  course,  seen  or  unseen  by  us,  un 
ruffled  by  any  of  the  affairs  of  this  planet  she  illuminates  with 
the  rays  reflected  from  her  superior  luminary.  The  evenings 
are  now  very  fine,  and  the  magnificent  blue  vault  above  us, 
studded  with  innumerable  twinkling  stars,  and  resplendent  with 
the  steady  light  of  the  greater  planets  and  the  surpassing 
glory  of  the  queen  of  night,  may  well  cause  me  to  exclaim, 
with  David,  "  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and  the 
firmament  showeth  his  handiwork,"  and  to  adore,  with  humil 
ity,  the  almighty  Architect  of  this  beautiful  refulgent  temple 
to  his  glory.  A  Sabbath-day  robe  of  beauty  is  upon  the  sea 
and  sky  to-day.  We  think  of  worshipping  friends  on  the 
land,  and  say,  with  the  Psalmist,  "How  amiable  are  thy  taber 
nacles,  0  Lord  of  Hosts  !  My  soul  longeth,  yea,  even  faint- 
eth  for  the  courts  of  my  God." 

We  left  at  Marseilles,  with  one  of  the  ministers  of  the 
Protestant  Church  there,  most  of  our  Testaments,  and  four 
French  Bibles,  for  gratuitous  distribution,  also  some  Tracts ; 
and  I  hope  into  whatever  hands  they  may  fall,  they  will  do 
good.  Our  accommodations  on  board  are  very  comfortable 
and  convenient ;  but  in  our  Captain  we  have  been  much  de- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          143 

ceived,  for  we  find  him  both  profane  and  ungentlemanly. 
There  is  much  profanity  used  also  by  the  first  mate  to  the 
men  ;  and  in  both  instances  it  is  most  awful  and  revolting  to 
hear. 

I  have  supplied  the  men  that  were  destitute — six,  including 
one  boy — with  Bibles,  and  all  with  Tracts  that  can  read. 
To  our  cook,  who  is  French,  we  have  given  a  French  Testa 
ment.  What  an  influence  have  the  officers  of  a  ship  over  the 
men  under  their  control !  But,  alas  !  how  wickedly,  in  many 
cases,  is  it  perverted  by  setting  them  a  miserable,  irreligious 
example — cursing  and  swearing,  and  using  the  foul  language 
of  uncontrolled  passion  ;  and  thus,  instead  of  benefiting,  cor 
rupting  and  demoralizing  by  their  example  and  influence  those 
under  their  care. 

February  28th,  Sabbath  afternoon. — Through  the  gracious 
care  of  him  who  governs  the  elements,  we  are  now  far  on  our 
way,  though  we  still  have  a  long  distance  to  sail.  We  have 
much  to  bear  from  the  positive,  overbearing  manners  of  our 
Captain,  who,  it  is  painful  to  say,  in  more  ways  than  one  is  a 
very  wicked  man.  Oh  !  how  awful  will  be  his  cup  in  the 
eternal  world,  if  he  continues  till  death  in  his  wicked  courses. 
Oh,  God,  preserve  me  from  the  evil  influence  of  such  pro 
fane,  wicked  example  ;  and  may  I  be  filled  with  compassion 
for  the  immortal  souls  of  those  around  me,  who  are  so  surely, 
by  their  sins,  if  unrepented  of,  heaping  up  wrath  against  the 
day  of  wrath,  and  rapidly  going  forward  in  the  path  to  eter 
nal  ruin.  I  have  been  reading  to-day  in  the  Bible  and 
Barnes'  Commentary  on  Romans.  I  am  also  reading  Aids 
to  Devotion,  including  Watts'  Guide  to  Prayer,  and  Selec 
tions  from  Bickersteth.  There  is  a  small  but  valuable  library 
on  board,  from  the  Seamen's  Library  and  Tract  Association 
of  Philadelphia  ;  but  the  sailors  do  not  receive  much  benefit 
from  if,  as  no  attention  seems  to  be  paid  to  the  lending  of  the 
books  to  them.  Thus  are  the  efforts  of  Christians  to  do  good 
crossed  and  made  inefficient  by  the  negligence  of  wicked  men. 


144  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

Ship  Julia,  March  13th,  1836.  Off  Cuba,  led.  19°  22', 
long.  78°  26 '  W. — It  is  now  seven  weeks  since  I  began  to 
recover  from  my  last  attack  of  asthma  at  Marseilles,  and 
thirty-eight  days  since  I  there  embarked,  during  which  time  I 
have  not  suffered  with  my  disorder,  and  am  daily  gaming  in 
flesh  and  strength.  The  sea  seems  to  be  the  very  best  place 
for  the  improvement  of  my  health,  and  I  regret  that  our  voy 
age  is  so  nearly  at  a  close,  for  we  shall,  by  the  blessing  of  God, 
probably  arrive  at  the  bar  of  the  Mississippi  in  the  course  of 
five  or  six  days,  and  I  fear  the  change  from  the  pure  sea  air 
to  that  of  the  land  will  again  bring  on  my  complaint,  not 
withstanding  the  unusual  strength  and  comparative  vigor  I 
have  now  gained.  I  know  very  well  that  a  few  days'  suffering 
of  its  weakening,  heavy  attacks,  would  soon  bring  me  back  to 
the  weak  and  feeble  state  I  have  been  in  so  many  times  before. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  how  great  is  my  reason  for  gratitude  that 
I  have  already  enjoyed  so  long  an  interval  of  comfortable  health, 
longer  protracted,  I  believe,  than  any  I  have  had  since  I  was 
first  sick.  How  great  and  undeserved  is  the  goodness  of  God 
toward  me  !  Thanks  be  unto  his  name,  He  does  not  reward 
any  of  us  according  to  our  deserts,  or  recompense  us  accord 
ing  to  the  cleanness  of  our  hands  in  his  eye-sight ;  otherwise, 
I  could  hope  for  no  mercy  at  his  hands.  We  have  an  Advo 
cate  with  the  Father,  even  Jesus  Christ,  the  righteous ;  and, 
O  Grod,  for  his  dear  sake,  forgive  my  backslidings,  my  prayer- 
lessness,  my  negligent  unholy  living,  and  may  I  now  form  and 
fulfil  new  purposes  of  holy  obedience  to  thy  commandments. 

Parts  of  a  letter  written  at  sea,  about  this  time,  to  his 
sister,  shed  additional  light  upon  his  employments, 
prospects,  and  state  of  mind,  while  journey  ing  thus 
upon  the  great  deep. 

We  find  being  at  sea,  when  not  oppressed  with  mal  de  mer, 
to  be  an  excellent  place  for  intellectual  pursuits,  the  monotony 


OF   NATHANIEL    C1IEEVER,    M.D.  145 

of  outward  objects  leaving  the  mind  undiverted  by  them,  to 
turn  its  whole  attention  to  the  quiet  discipline  and  cultivation 
of  its  own  powers.  We  find  abundant  employment 
trust,  improvement,  in  reading,  writing,  and  study. 
be  glad  to  know  that,  as  when  I  before  crossed  the  Atlantic, 
I  am  experiencing  great  benefit  from  the  voyage,  though  I 
still  fear  the  sadly  opposite  effects  I  then  suffered  of  again 
coming  to  land.  I  have  now  had  enough  to  cool  my  most 
sanguine  expectations  of  restoration  to  health ;  and  when 
I  suffer,  as  I  did  at  Marseilles,  the  repeated  attacks  of  rny 
disorder,  after  having  too  fondly  hoped  I  should  not  again  be 
subjected  to  them,  I  am  almost  ready  to  despair,  and  endeavor 
calmly  to  resign  myself  to  the  prospect  of  suffering  thus  as 
long  as  I  live.  But,  with  the  temporary  intermission  of  my 
disorder,  my  buoyant  spirit  again  revives,  and  hope,  which 
may  truly  be  said  to  spring  eternal  in  the  human  breast,  is 
again  an  inmate  of  mine. 

This  has  been  my  experience  for  more  than  eight  years; 
at  the  commencement  of  each  one,  I  have  too  vainly  hoped 
that  by  its  close  I  might  be  free  from  this  malady;  but 
He,  in  whose  hands  are  the  issues  of  life  and  health,  has 
not  yet  seen  fit  to  bless  with  healing  power  any  of  the 
numerous  expedients  which  I  have  tried.  But  may  I  be 
deeply  grateful  that  He  has  taught  me,  as  I  hope,  how  to 
view  it,  and  led  me  to  feel  as  our  dear  brother  has  expressed 
it,  that  "In  vain  are  youth  and  health  and  spirits  given,  if, 
strangers  still  to  care  and  pain,  we  never  think  of  Heaven." 
I  think,  when  you  know  our  reasons,  you  will  see  that  it  was 
best  for  us  to  go  upon  this  voyage.  The  climate  of  Malaga, 
though  very  favorable,  seemed  far  from  working  a  permanent 
cure,  and  the  known  benefit  of  a  sea  voyage,  with  the  favorable 
opportunity  of  embarking  in  this  ship,  induced  us  to  adopt  it. 

March  9£A,  lat.  20°  N.,  long.  70'  W. — We  this  morning 
came  in  sight  of  Cape  Frangois  on  St.  Domingo,  or  Hayti, 
and  have  been  sailing  along  that  island  all  day,  at  the  distance 


MEMORIALS    OF    THE    LIFE 

of  twenty  miles  from  the  land,  which  we  have  on  the  south, 
and  the  Bahama  Islands,  and  various  keys,  north.  A  strong 
northeast  breeze  sprung  up  this  morning,  and  we  are  now 
goj^  at  the  rate  of  eight  knots  an  hour,  and  ten  days  will 
probably  bring  us  to  the  bar  at  the  mouth  of  the  Missis 
sippi. 

St.  Domingo  is  the  island  so  triumphantly  referred  to  by 
the  abettors  of  slavery,  as  an  illustration  of  the  ruinous  con 
sequences  of  emancipation  ;  but  a  reference  to  the  facts  of 
history  show  that  the  scheme  worked  admirably  from  1793, 
the  year  of  the  Decree  of  the  French  Directory  giving  them 
liberty,  to  the  year  1797,  when  Bonaparte,  as  First  Consul, 
injudiciously  and  cruelly  attempted  to  bring  them  again  under 
the  yoke  of  slavery ;  and  then  it  was  that  the  great  mas 
sacre  took  place,  and  Dessalines,  the  black  general,  so  nobly 
distinguished  himself  in  fighting  to  maintain  the  liberty  of  the 
former  slaves,  to  whom  even  the  short  enjoyment  they  had 
of  it  was  dearer  than  life.  They  are  now  governed  by  a  Pre 
sident  (Boyer),  and  a  House  of  Assembly,  chosen  from  among 
themselves. 

Saturday  A.M.,  March  \3th,  off  the,  bar,  at  the,  mouth  of 
the  Mississippi. — We  took  a  pilot  at  half  past  nine  this  A.M., 
and  are  now  under  his  guidance,  making  our  way  with  a 
gentle  breeze  to  the  entrance  of  that  mighty  river,  the  Mis 
sissippi.  This  A.M.,  before  breakfast,  the  lead  was  cast,  but 
no  sounding  obtained  in  thirty-five  fathom,  and  one  of  the 
eighteen  pounders  was  fired  four  times  at  intervals,  as  a  sig 
nal  for  the  pilot  to  come  off.  There  has  been  a  thick  fog 
around  us  all  the  morning,  and  the  loud  report  of  the  gun 
gave  a  grand  and  prolonged  echo,  which  reverberated  like 
peals  of  distant  thunder.  The  fog,  though  thick  around  us, 
and  plainly  seen  descending  upon  the  deck,  is  so  fine  as 
hardly  to  be  perceived  upon  the  skin,  though  it  fills  the  sur 
rounding  air  with  dampness.  The  water  began  to  be  dis 
colored  day  before  yestertU?  in  lat.  about  27°  N.,  long  87° 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVEK,   M.D.  147 

25'  W. ;  and  it  has  now  assumed  a  thick,  turbid  appearance, 
much  like  the  Kennebec  in  a  freshet  after  great  rains.  A 
man  is  now  in  the  main  chains  throwing  the  lead,  but  has 
found  no  bottom  yet  in  thirteen  fathoms. 

I  am  not  yet  affected  with  the  asthma,  though  I  fear  tho 
effects  of  this  dampness,  and  of  again  coming  ashore  ;  but 
how  great  is  our  cause  for  gratitude  for  the  unusually  long 
interval  of  freedom  I  have  enjoyed,  and  for  the  circumstances 
of  safety  and  happiness  in  which  our  voyage  is  now  nearly 
concluded.  He  whose  is  the  sea,  and  who  made  it,  and 
whose  hands  formed  the  dry  land,  has,  in  mercy,  conducted 
us  over  the  pathless  ocean,  preserved  us  from  all  accident  and 
disaster,  and  granted  us  many  great  blessings.  To  him  be 
all  the  glory  of  our  comfort  and  preservation. 

Evening. — We  came  to  anchor  at  twenty  minutes  past 
twelve,  off  the  Southwest  Pass,  in  ten  fathoms  of  water. 
After  dinner  H.  and  myself  went  up  into  the  fore- top,  and 
could  see  around  our  ship,  about  a  mile  or  so  farther  in,  a 
fleet  of  thirteen  sail,  all  ships  but  one  brig,  beside  a  ship  just 
astern  of  us,  which  came  to  an  anchor  just  after  we  dropped 
ours.  They  had  a  most  singular  appearance,  the  bank  of 
fog  enveloping  their  hulls  and  rigging  to  the  main  yard,  and 
causing  them  to  look  somewhat  as  though  their  lower  parts 
were  sunk  in  the  sea.  A  steamboat  was  alongside  one  of 
them,  lightening  her  to  enable  her  to  cross  the  bar  ;  and  this 
afternoon,  at  a  later  hour,  she  was  towing  her  across. 
Her  steam  looked  very  curious,  rolling  along  on  top  of  the 
fog,  nothing  of  her  hull  being  seen,  like  light,  fleecy  clouds. 

We  could  see  none  of  these  from  the  deck ;  and  even  the 
ship,  only  a  few  ships'  length  astern,  was  sometimes  almost 
entirely  hid,  although  the  sun  has  been  shining  all  day,  and  the 
atmosphere,  at  about  fifty  feet  above  the  deck,  clear  of  fog. 
This  evening  we  can  hear  the  ships'  bells  around  us,  either 
striking  the  hour,  or  to  warn  any  ships  coming  in,  where  they 
are.  A  steamboat  will  probably  come  off  to  us  to-morrow,  to 


148  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

take  the  ship  over  the  bar,  and  up  the  river.  The  water  on 
the  bar  fluctuates  from  ten  to  sixteen  or  eighteen  feet  deep, 
and  forms  a  great  impediment  to  the  navigation  of  this  giant 
river,  which  runs  its  rapid,  turbid  course  of  three  thousand 
miles,  and  is  now  the  great  thoroughfare  of  the  growing  em 
pire  of  the  "far  West." 

This  bar  makes  a  great  source  of  employment  and  profit  to 
the  steamboats  ;  but  the  expenses  of  the  boats  are  prodigious, 
the  item  of  wood  alone  being  about  thirty  cords  a  day  while 
towing.  This,  at  the  price  which  it  sells  at — four  or  five 
dollars  a  cord — would  alone  amount  to  between  one  hundred 
and  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  the  other  expenses  in 
proportion  ;  the  high  wages  of  engineers,  and  other  items,  would 
make  a  sum  of  at  least  two  hundred  dollars  per  day,  which 
it  takes  to  keep  in  motion  these  vast  machines.  The  price 
of  towing  is  according  to  the  tonnage  of  vessels,  and  with 
lighterage,  amounts  frequently  to  five  hundred  dollars  a  ship. 
The  rate  of  lighterage  is  ten  dollars  an  hour,  and  very  many 
large  ships  are  obliged  to  take  out  several  tons  of  cargo,  and 
replace  it  again  when  they  have  got  into  the  river. 

The  top  of  the  bar  is  composed  of  a  hard  crust,  six  inches 
thick,  and  underneath  this  it  is  soft  mud,  so  that  it  does  not 
much  injure  vessels  to  ground  upon  it,  which  they  very  often 
do  ;  and  those  outward  bound  remain  stuck  sometimes  for 
five  or  six  weeks.  The  water  on  the  bar,  we  are  told  by  the 
pilot,  is  less  than  it  was  several  years  since,  though  it  is  very 
fluctuating,  new  channels  sometimes  breaking  through,  and 
affording  a  passage  of  sufficient  depth.  In  1721,  there  were 
twenty-six  feet  of  water  on  the  bar,  and  in  1821,  seventeen 
feet.  Now  there  are  but  twelve  feet  steadily  upon  it.  A 
strong  southeast  wind  from  the  open  sea,  after  continuing  for 
a  few  days  raises  the  water  to  a  very  good  height  ;  and  a 
freshet  in  the  Mississippi,  on  the  contrary,  lessens  it,  by  driv 
ing  the  water  of  the  sea  back. 

The  water  where  we  lay  is  very  thick  and  muddy,   and 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          149 

nearly  or  quite  as  fresh  as  in  the  river,  which  is  continu 
ally  discharging  into  the  sea,  with  a  current  of  four  or 
five  miles  an  hour,  a  body  of  water  a  mile  in  width,  and 
fifteen  or  twenty  fathoms  deep.  And  yet,  against  this 
strong  current  one  of  these  powerful,  high-pressure  engines 
will  propel  two  or  three  ships,  besides  sometimes  several 
brigs  or  schooners  of  less  burden.  Such  is  the  wonderful 
triumph  of  man  by  the  invention  of  the  steam  engine,  over 
such  tremendously  powerful  physical  forces,  opposed  to  the 
accomplishment  of  his  vast  and  ever-restless  designs,  for 
the  fulfilment  of  which  he  uses  and  manages  with  admirable 
adroitness  all  the  elements  of  creation,  air,  fire,  and  water, 
with  the  same  ease  and  regularity  that  he  curbs  the  motions 
of  his  horse.  How  wonderful  is  man,  but  0,  the  infinite 
greatness  of  Him  who  made  and  endowed  him  with  such  god 
like  faculties  ! 

The  appearance  of  the  shore,  from  our  place  of  anchorage, 
is  very  flat  and  sunken,  all  the  land  to  be  seen  having  been 
formed  by  the  deposit  of  the  Mississippi.  New  land  at  its 
mouth  is  now  to  be  seen  in  process  of  formation — logs,  snags, 
and  drift-wood  being  the  nucleus  around  which  the  mud  is  de 
posited.  Flocks  of  pelicans  resort  to  these  islands,  and  they 
fly  in  great  numbers  about  us,  screaming,  and  cawing,  and 
sometimes  flying  in  Indian  file  like  regular  soldiers. 

On  Sunday,  the  day  after  our  arrival,  the  captain  left  the 
ship  in  order  to  get  passage  up  to  the  city  in  a  steamboat.  He 
wished  us  to  go  with  him,  as  it  might  be,  he  said,  the  only 
opportunity  we  should  have  before  the  ship  was  towfced  up ; 
but  this  we  declined  doing  for  one  of  the  best  of  reasons — that 
it  would  be  a  profanation  of  the  holy  Sabbath,  which,  though 
others  might  violate  it  with  impunity  around  us,  we  feel  a 
sacred  obligation  to  respect  and  sanctify  ;  and  as  it  turned 
out,-  it  would  have  been  of  no  advantage  to  us,  for  the  cap 
tain  returned  to  the  ship  on  Tuesday,  and  did  not  get  passage 
to  the  city  till  Thursday,  when  he  went  up  in  the  tow-boat 


150  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

Hudson,  leaving  the  first  mate,  pro  tempore,  "  a  monarch 
of  all  he  surveyed"  within  the  narrow  limits  of  the  ship, 
from  the  bowsprit  to  the  taffrail,  and  from  the  keel  to  the 
main  truck ;  in  the  government  of  which  domain  he  would  be 
pretty  sure  to  go  to  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  his  temporary  pre 
rogative. 

On  Saturday,  A.  M.,  the  Captain  returned  to  the  ship,  with 
the  Hudson,  which  carried  us  to  a  safe  roadstead  near  one  of 
the  low  islands,  and  lightened  us  of  425  casks  of  wine,  lessening 
our  draft  of  water  two  feet.  Sunday  noon,  the  Hudson  took 
us  over  the  bar  in  about  twenty  minutes,  the  keel  of  the  Julia 
touching  slightly,  our  draft  being  reduced  to  thirteen  feet. 
The  width  of  the  bar,  or  of  that  part  of  it  on  which  the  water 
is  so  shallow  as  to  impede  navigation,  is  about  four  ship's 
lengths,  or  one-sixteenth  of  a  mile  wide.  It  extends  quite 
across  the  mouth  of  the  S.  "W.  Pass,  which  is  here  a  mile  and 
a  half  or  two  miles  in  width,  and  is  now  the  principal  mouth 
of  the  Mississippi,  and  the  only  ship  channel ;  the  N.  E.  and 
S.  E.  Passes,  from  twelve  or  fifteen  to  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles 
further  east,  being  navigable  only  for  vessels  of  eight  or  ten 
feet  draft  of  water. 

"We  came  to  an  anchor  about  five  miles  up  the  river,  at  a 
small  bayou  or  creek,  where  the  pilots  and  a  custom-house 
boarding  officer  live,  on  the  right  side  of  the  river,  ascending 
it.  We  dismissed  our  pilot  at  two  o'clock,  and  received  a 
visit  from  the  boarding  officer,  who  took  a  copy  of  the  Cap 
tain's  manifest,  and  certified  the  list  of  his  crew.  After  we 
h-ad  come  to  anchor,  the  men  commenced  removing  back  to 
the  ship  a  part  of  the  casks  of  wine  from  the  steamboat,  and 
the  noise  of  the  work,  and  their  merry,  but  I  am  sorry  to  add, 
ribald  and  profane  songs,  seemed  little  in  consonance  with  the 
stillness  and  sanctity  of  the  holy  Sabbath  which  they  and  their 
officers  were  so  grossly  profaning. 

About  half  past  five,  we  got  under  way  again,  and  at  night 
passed  another  steamboat  with  two  ships  in  tow.  There  was 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          151 

a  fire  burning  among  the  reeds  on  shore,  and  some  negroes 
with  a  boat  fastened  near  it.  The  light  of  the  fire  upon  the 
river  and  objects  around,  and  on  the  two  ships  in  tow  of  the 
boat,  with  its  loud  and,  I  may  truly  say,  monster-like  puffing, 
had  a  very  novel  and  wild  appearance.  At  ten  in  the  even 
ing,  we  took  in  tow,  on  the  other  side  of  the  boat  (making 
three  abreast  with  it),  the  ship  "  Orwell,"  of  Hull,  the  same 
that  we  spoke  off  Cuba.  With  this  new  tax  upon  his 
strength,  the  blowing  monster  between  us  still  urged  on, 
breasting  up  steadfastly  against  the  rapid  current,  trium 
phantly  proving  that  wind  and  tide  are  no  obstacles  to  the 
power  of  steam. 

The  levee  and  sugar  plantations  of  Louisiana  begin  about 
forty-five  or  fifty  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and  the 
former  extends  200  miles  above  New-Orleans,  and  about  sixty 
below  it,  the  city  being  105  miles  from  the  sea.  The  appear 
ance  of  the  plantations,  as  we  passed  up,  was  picturesque  and 
luxuriant,  some  of  the  planters'  houses  handsome,  and  the 
little  huts  for  the  negroes  looked  generally  very  thrifty  and 
comfortable. 

We  saw  considerable  numbers  of  the  slaves  at  work  in 
the  fields,  men  and  women  together,  with  an  overseer  hav 
ing  a  whip  in  his  hand,  superintending  their  labor.  But  I 
did  not  have  the  pleasure,  in  looking  on  these  plantations, 
(the  effects  of  the  compulsory  labor  of  slaves  without  an  ade 
quate  reward)  that  is  experienced  in  beholding  a  thrifty  New 
England  farm,  worked  by  the  free,  unshackled,  and  well- 
rewarded  labor  of  men  who  have  the  "  inalienable  rights  of 
life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,"  stated  to  be  such 
in  that  noble  document,  the  Declaration  of  American  Inde 
pendence,  but  with  which  our  system  of  slavery  is  a  most 
palpable  inconsistency.  Oh  !  that  the  time  may  soon  come, 
when  this  inconsistency  shall  no  longer  exist,  but  when  those 
long-denied,  but  still  inalienable  rights  shall  be  rationally  en 
joyed  by  every  creature  under  heaven  made  in  the  image  of 


152  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

God.  "  Speed  it,  O  Father ;  let  thy  kingdom  come ;"  and 
let  the  soul-debasing  slavery  of  sin  soon  cease,  and  all  man 
kind  be  emancipated  from  its  bondage  into  the  pure  and  glo 
rious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God  ! 

The  banks  of  the  river  are  orientally  verdant,  and  in  many 
places  bordered  by  forests  of  live  oak,  of  which  our  navy  is 
built,  and  other  trees.  In  this  climate,  the  oak  is  covered  in 
all  its  foliage  with  a  grey  moss,  that  gives  to  the  tree  a  sombre, 
funereal  appearance,  something  like  the  willow.  At  what  is 
called  the  English  Turn,  the  river  makes  a  great  bend,  form 
ing  a  narrow  peninsula,  and  varying  in  its  course  from  about 
N.  and  S.  to  E.  and  W.  The  current  off  this  peninsula  is 
very  strong,  and  our  progress  here,  was  very  much  diminished, 
but  by  the  overcoming  power  of  steam  we  conquered  it,  and 
were  soon  going  at  our  usual  rate,  about  four  miles  an  hour 
against  a  current  of  three. 

New-Orleans,  Wednesday  evening,  March  3Qth. — Here,  by 
the  unspeakable  mercy  of  our  heavenly  Father,  we  safely 
arrived  on  Monday  night  at  the  Levee,  and  landed  yesterday 
morning  We  are  now  at  a  comfortable  boarding-house,  recom 
mended  to  us  by  Rev.  Joel  Parker,  from  whose  acquaintance 
and  ministrations,  we  hope  for  much  pleasure  and  benefit. 

Yesterday  was  my  birth-day,  but  I  was  so  unwell,  and 
occupied  by  our  new  situation,  as  not  to  be  able  to  spend  it 
as  I  wished.  This  evening  I  have  renewed  my  covenant,  and 
enjoyed  more  freedom  than  for  some  time  in  prayer.  Little 
did  I  think  my  last  birth- day,  I  should  be  in  New  Orleans 
now  ;  and  as  little  do  I  know  or  conjecture  where  I  shall  bo 
my  next  one,  if  I  am  still  continued  in  this  probationary 
world.  I  know  not  what  will  be  the  future  course  of  either 
of  us  from  this  city.  May  the  Lord  who  alone  can  direct  the 
steps  of  a  man,  guide  both  my  own,  and  those  of  my  dear 
brother  in  the  way  most  for  his  glory  and  our  best  good. 

New  Orleans,  April  3rd,  Sabbath  evening. — I  would  joy 
fully  record  the  unspeakable  goodness  of  God  in  again  per- 


OF    NATHANIEL    CHEEVER,    M.D.  153 

mittiug  me,  in  company  with  my  dear  brother,  to  hear,  from 
an  evangelical,  Christian  pulpit,  the  glad  sound  of  the  gospel, 
and  again  to  unite  with  the  people  of  God,  after  more  than 
nine  months7  deprivation  of  this  affecting  service,  in  partak 
ing  of  the  sacred  emblems  of  our  Saviour's  dying  love.  We 
this  morning  attended  divine  service  at  Mr.  Parker's  church, 
and  were  edified  by  him  with  a  most  excellent  discourse  from 
Ephesians  ii.  8.  In  the  afternoon  there  was  no  sermon,  but 
after  reading  the  Bible  with  illustratory  remarks  and  prayer, 
the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  was  administered  to 
a  large  number  of  communicants  in  the  presence  of  the  con 
gregation  assembled.  Well  might  we,  on  this  occasion,  enter 
into  his  gates  with  thanksgiving,  and  his  courts  with  praise. 

New  Orleans,  April  Sth.—  On  Thursday  Henry  obtained 
two  good  saddle-horses,  and  we  set  off  soon  after  break 
fast,  on  a  tour  of  observation  round  the  city.  We  first 
turned  our  attention  to  the  Orleans  Cotton  Press,  about  a 
mile  from  the  centre  of  the  city — an  immense  structure  of 
brick,  seven  hundred  feet  front  and  four  hundred  and  eighty 
deep,  in  the  form  of  a  hollow  square,  leaving  a  large  open 
court  in  the  centre,  with  two  wings  extending  into  it  from  the 
main  front  next  the  river.  The  force  of  a  powerful  steam- 
engine  is  here  applied  to  the,  screws  by  means  of  cog-wheels, 
and  raises  and  depresses  them  with  great  rapidity  and  power. 
Several  large  vessels  were  loading  with  cotton  from  the  press, 
which  is  owned  by  a  company  with  a  capital  of  seven  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  and  rented  by  them  to  individuals,  and 
capable  of  containing  a  prodigious  number  of  bales. 

From  thence  we  went  to  the  engine  of  the  water-works, 
which  is  in  the  same — the  upper  part  of  the  city — and 
twenty  or  thirty  rods  from  the  river.  It  is  in  a  brick  build 
ing,  two  or  three  stories  in  height,  and  by  means  of  exhaust 
ing  the  air  with  a  horizontal  piston  from  pipes  laid  to  the 
river,  brings  up  the  water,  and  forces  it  into  others  laid  to 
the  top  of  an  artificial  mound,  about  an  eighth  or  sixteenth 
7* 


154:  MEMORIALS    OF    THE    LIFE 

of  a  mile  further  back,  from  whence  it  is  to  be  distributed  in 
other  pipes  to  the  city. 

The  mound,  which  was  commenced  about  two  years 
since,  is  three  hundred  feet  square  at  the  base,  two  hun 
dred  and  forty  at  the  top,  and  twenty-five  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  land  around.  It  is  surmounted  with  four 
brick  cisterns  or  reservoirs,  plastered  with  Roman  cement, 
intended  to  be  each  twelve  feet  high,  and  about  one 
hundred  or  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  square.  Two  of 
them  are  now  finished  to  the  height  of  eight  feet,  as  far  as 
they  intend  at  present  to  carry  them,  and  each  is  capable 
of  containing  one  million  gallons  of  water — a  supply  for  the 
city,  supposing  every  family  to  take  it,  for  three  days  ;  so 
that  when  they  are  all  filled,  the  water  in  each  cistern  may 
be  settling  for  nine  days,  and  the  sand  thus  deposited  by  the 
Mississippi  is  to  be  washed  out  through  a  pipe  at  the  end  of 
each  reservoir,  and  being  very  valuable  for  mortar,  may,  it  is 
calculated,  be  sold  for  at  least  a  bit  (twelve  and  a  half  cents) 
a  load,  thus  making  it  a  source  of  income.  These  works 
will  soon  be  in  operation,  and  will  supply  the  new,  spa 
cious  baths  at  Caldwell's  theatre,  and  will  probably  be 
excellent  stock  to  the  company  of  the  Commercial  Bank, 
who  are  the  builders  of  this  fine  monument  of  utility,  human 
labor,  and  skill. 

We  have  seen,  even  during  our  short  stay,  the  degrading, 
brutifying  influence  of  slavery,  by  observing  the  manners  and 
appearance  of  the  slaves — their  coarse,  vacant  laugh — their 
profane,  vulgar  conversation,  and  general  behaviour  :  all  show 
a  lowness  of  being,  and  moral  degradation  most  painful  to 
witness,  but  the  natural  and  legitimate  result  of  the  dark, 
oppressed  condition  in  which  they  are  kept. 

To  the  political  economist,  the  alarming  increase  of  this 
population  affords  an  appalling  subject  of  contemplation ; 
and  to  the  Christian  and  philanthropist,  it  opens  a  wide  field 
of  benevolent  effort  for  their  peaceful  emancipation,  and  pre- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          155 

paration  to  enjoy  the  blessings  of  rational  liberty.  May  such 
schemes  be  speedily  devised,  as  shall  be  blessed  by  God  to 
the  entire  remedy  of  this  great  evil,  and  the  re^establishment 
of  so  large  a  number  of  his  creatures  in  their  long-desired 
liberty  and  happiness. 

We  visited  also  the  New  Orleans  Burying-grounds.  These, 
both  Catholic  and  Protestant,  are  situated  in  the  edge  of 
the  swamp,  just  back  of  the  city.  Those  who  are  able, 
build  monuments  for  the  dead  on  the  surface,  as  the  earth, 
at  the  depth  of  only  eight  or  ten  inches,  is  so  full  of  water 
as  to  make  it  necessary  to  put  in  stones  or  other  heavy 
articles  to  sink  the  coffins,  which  frequently  rise. 

The  Protestant  Bury  ing-ground  has  walls  ten  or  twelve  feet 
thick,  where  the  bodies  are  deposited  in  niches,  after  the  same 
manner  as  in  the  cemetery  at  Malaga.  In  this  ground  lie 
the  bones  of  very  many  young  men  from  New  England,  who 
have  been  cut  down  in  the  vigor  and  beauty  of  manhood,  by 
the  relentless  stroke  of  death,  through  his  dreadful  ministers 
of  fever  and  pestilence,  which  have  here  most  truly  been  glutted 
with  victims. 

Canal  street  runs  in  a  direct  line  from  the  river  to  the 
swamp,  which  is  about  half  a  mile  back  from  it,  and  with 
Rampart  street  at  right  angles,  and  Espinal  parallel,  includes 
the  city  Proper,  in  its  original  limits  under  the  French,  about 
one  half  or  three  fourths  of  a  mile  square,  but  which  have 
now  enlarged  to  a  great  extent,  as  the  city  and  its  faubourgs 
extend  from  one  and  a  half  to  two  miles  up  and  down  the 
river,  which  is  lined  for  that  space  more  or  less  thickly  by 
forests  of  shipping  and  steamboats,  besides  the  arks  and  flat- 
boats  from  the  upper  country.  These  streets  are  all  double, 
and  have,  between  the  two  carriage  ways,  several  rows  of 
trees,  much  in  the  manner  of  the  French  Boulevards,  in  Espi 
nal  street,  they  are  very  flourishing,  and  form  a  healthy  and 
delightful  ornament  to  the  city. 


156  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

In  a  letter  to  his  Mother,  written  about  the  same 
time  with  these  extracts  from  the  Journal,  he  says  : 

All  the  humane  feelings  of  our  souls  were  aroused  at  wit 
nessing  last  week,  at  a  slave-auction,  those  having  the  form 
and  lineaments  of  our  common  humanity,  placed  on  the 
stand,  before  the  unfeeling  multitude,  their  good  qualities 
mentioned,  and  their  defects  pointed  out  like  as  of  brutes, 
and  knocked  off  in  the  same  manner  with  land  and  other  pro 
perty,  which  were  selling  in  the  same  room.  A  family  of 
father,  mother,  and  three  pretty  negro  boys,  were  sold  to  one 
man  for  $2,600.  They  all  seemed  unconscious  of  their  de 
graded  condition.  One  of  the  women  who  was  sold,  and 
seemed  to  be  the  grandmother  of  the  children,  kissed  and 
embraced  them  in  a  most  affecting  manner,  and  her  aged 
frame  seemed  to  shake  with  her  strong  emotions.  Truly  this 
indignant  sight  made  our  hearts  weep  ;  and  we  felt  ashamed, 
and  blushed  to  think  ourselves  of  the  same  race  with  those 
who  cause  such  scenes,  and  all  the  ignorance,  degradation, 
and  wickedness  attached  to  this  corrupt  system. 

The  weather  here  is  warm  and  pleasant,  and  the  earth  and 
trees  are  covered  with  a  beautiful  robe  of  green ;  I  have 
wished  to  defer  my  return  to  New  England,  till  its  damp, 
cold  spring  has  well  emerged  from  the  ice  and  snow-drifts  of 
such  a  tremendous  winter  as  you  have  experienced.  When 
you  receive  this,  I  shall  probably  be  on  the  ocean,  enjoying 
its  healthy  breezes,  as  the  ship  I  have  engaged  passage  in, 
sails  by  the  middle  of  next  week.  Do  not  be  anxious  for 
me,  dear  Mother,  but  commit  us  both  to  the  hitherto  never- 
failing  care  of  our  heavenly  Father.  The  accommodations 
of  the  ship  are  good,  the  captain  is  a  pleasant  looking  man, 
having  his  wife  with  him  ;  and  the  heart  of  a  woman,  if  not 
a  traitor  to  her  sex,  may  generally  be  depended  upon  for 
kindness  and  sympathy,  when  such  are  required. 

In  this  connection,  on  account  of  its  biographical 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.  157 

value,  and  the  natural  revelation  it  affords  of  cha 
racter,  we  have  not  felt  at  liberty  to  suppress  the  fol 
lowing  letter.  The  warm,  fraternal  affection  and  piety 
it  breathes,  were  no  spring  freshet  in  the  mind  of  the 
writer,  but  such  was  its  perennial*  flow.  How  grateful 
it  was  to  share  and  enjoy  it,  few  can  tell.  To  the  com 
panion  of  his  boyhood,  and  of  his  travels  abroad  in 
quest  of  health,  the  separation  that  now  ensued, 
while  it  was  felt  to  be  necessary,  wTas  peculiarly  pain 
ful.  The  one  remained  in  Louisiana  to  engage  in 
teaching ;  the  beloved  invalid  was  left  to  pursue  his 
homeward  voyage  alone. 

Monday,  A.M.,  April  2oth,  1836. 

At  anchor  in  the  river,  just  below  the  city  of  New  Orleans. 

DEAR,  DEAR  HENRY — Here  we  have  been  laying  at  an 
chor  all  night,  waiting  for  the  steamboat's  men,  who  have 
just  now  as  I  write,  half  past  ten,  come  on  board,  arid  we 
are  now  getting  under  way.  We  dropped  off  from  the  Levee 
about  twenty  minutes  after  you  left  last  night,  and  came  to 
an  anchor  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  below  where  we  lay  when  I  watched  your  retreat 
ing  steps,  and  turned  and  found  myself  alone,  without  the 
dear  brother  whose  sweet  society  I  have  so  long  enjoyed.  As 
to  my  feelings  in  parting  from  you,  dear  Henry,  if  I  should 
allow  them  full  sway,  they  would  altogether  destroy  my  equa 
nimity  ;  but  I  restrain  them,  and  find  relief  in  committing 
you  entirely  to  the  watchful  care  of  our  heavenly  Father, 
who  has  exercised  it  with  so  much  tenderness  ever  since  we 
have  been  together. 

How  great  has  been  his  goodnees  in  permitting  us  to  be 
so  long  together,  and  granting  us  both  such  unspeakable 
mercies  !  Oh !  dear  Henry,  the  loving-kindness  and  tender 
mercy  of  God  have  been  exceeding  great  to  both  of  us  ; 


158  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

and,  dear  brother,  let  it  lead  us  to  a  new  and  entire  con 
secration  of  all  that  we  have  and  are  to  him.  Let  us  hence 
forth  be  more  pure  and  spiritual  in  our  thoughts,  more  watch 
ful  and  circumspect  in  our  behavior,  and  manifest  more  in 
all  our  ways,  the  temper  and  deportment  of  true,  devoted 
Christians.  I  do  hope  this  will  be  the  case,  and  that  we 
shall  both  gird  up  the  loins  of  our  mind,  shake  off  our  spiri 
tual  sloth,  fix  steadfastly  our  souls  upon  the  heavenly  prize , 
and  march  boldly  and  rapidly  forward  in  the  road  to  its 
attainment,  counting  all  things  else  of  inferior,  subordinate 
importance  to  this  blessed  purpose. 

What  a  sweet  consolation  it  is,  that  we  can  both  have 
access  to  a  throne  of  grace  through  the  precious,  atoning 
blood  of  our  Almighty  Saviour.  Let  me  be  where  I  may, 
at  the  Sandwich  Islands  or  at  home,  his  care  extends  equally 
to  all  places  ;  and  everywhere  can  I  pray  for,  and  commend 
you  to  him,  and  you  can  do  so  in  like  manner  for  me.  Let 
us  be  often  at  the  mercy-seat,  and  pray  much  for  ourselves 
and  each  other,  with  "  all  prayer  and  supplication." 

We  are  now  rapidly  going  down  the  river,  having  a  square- 
rigged  brig  abreast  of  us  on  the  other  side  of  the  steamboat, 
and  two  brigs  and  a  schooner  behind.  The  forest  of  masts  at 
New  Orleans  has  already  disappeared  from  my  view,  and 
distance,  dear  brother,  is  rapidly  increasing  between  us ; 
but,  though  absent  in  body,  may  we  be  present  in  spirit,  and 
enjoy  sweet  communion  at  the  throne  of  grace.  I  shall  try 
and  be  as  cheerful  as  I  can,  though  I  can  assure  you  it 
is  "  tuff"  enough,  dear  Henry,  without  you.  What  a  good 
brother  you  have  been  to  me  !  Pray  for  me,  that  I  may  have 
the  presence  of  Christ,  and  the  support  of  His  love.  Oh,  my 
dear  brother,  how  I  love,  and  long  even  now  to  see  you  ;  but 
I  must  repress  my  desires,  and  be  quiet. 

Thus,  you  see,  instead  of  half  a  sheet,  I  have  nearly  filled 
a  whole  one,  and  I  shall  feel  at  closing  this  letter  like  again 
parting  with  you,  but  must  leave  space  to  add  a  few  words 


OF   NATHANIEL   CITEEYEE,    M.D.  159 

when  the  boat  leaves  us  at  the  bar.  Dear  Henry,  that  the 
Lord  may  ever  keep  you  by  his  grace  from  all  sin  and  temp 
tation,  and  guide  you  by  heavenly  wisdom  in  all  your  ways, 
and  make  you  faithful  to  him,  and  all  things  to  work  for 
your  best  good,  is  the  earnest,  constant  prayer  of  your  most 
tenderly  affectionate  brother. 

Tuesday,  A.M. — When  I  had  finished  writing  yesterday, 
P.  M.,  all  the  drear  feelings  of  home-sickness,  or  rather 
of  sickness  to  see  you,  came  over  me,  and  it  was  with  great 
difficulty  I  restrained  them  ;  but  I  "  turned  to,"  and  add 
ed  up  our  accounts.  Remember  all  I  have  said  to  you 
about  everything,  and  be  very  careful  of  your  health.  Oh  ! 
my  dear  brother,  you  seem  dearer  to  me  than  ever  ;  but  we 
must  love  no  earthly  object  too  strongly.  Let  us  nail  our 
affections  to  the  cross  of  Christ,  whose  love  is  stronger  than 
death,  and  from  whom,  if  we  are  united  to  him  by  true  faith, 
we  can  never,  never  be  separated,  not  even  by  the  roar  and 
din  of  a  dissolving  world.  Oh,  let  us  commune  much  with 
Jesus,  our  blessed  Saviour,  make  him  our  friend,  and  then 
shall  we  have  one  indeed  that  will  never  fail  us.  Let  us  both 
strive  to  be  fitted  for  that  blessed  world  where  the  parting 
word  shall  be  unknown,  and  sin  and  sorrow  never  enter.  Do 
not  be  too  anxious,  but  commit  me  calmly  to  God,  who  has 
taken  care  of  me  thus  far. 

We  resume  here  the  Private  Journal,  which,  from 
the  time  of  his  arrival  at  New  Orleans,  and  renewed 
experience  of  suffering  with  his  malady,  is  more  than 
ordinarily  pervaded  with  tenderness  and  resignation 
to  the  Divine  will.  Passing  over  the  entries  made  in 
Louisiana,  and  at  the  period  when  providential  cir 
cumstances,  and  a  wise  regard  to  the  future,  made  it 
suitable  that  the  brothers  should  separate,  we  open  it 
again  at  sea. 


160  MEMOKIAU3    OF   THE   LIFE 

At  sea,  May  15th,  1836. — I  have  had  a  slight  attack  of 
asthma  this  last  week,  but  am  to-day  better,  and  have  en 
joyed  a  comfortable  Sabbath.  Thanks  be  to  God,  in  the 
absence  of  all  my  earthly  friends,  I  can  hold  communion  with 
him,  and  enjoy  the  sweet,  unspeakable  privilege  of  prayer. 
And,  oh,  what  a  glorious  privilege  it  is  !  What  a  blessed 
means  of  grace  !  Though  in  the  midst  of  profane  and  wicked 
men,  if  the  Christian  humbly  and  earnestly  improve  this 
heavenly  privilege,  he  may  pass  unscathed  in  the  midst  of 
their  depravity,  walking  by  faith  and  having  his  life  hid  with 
Christ  in  God.  Oh  Lord,  grant  me  more  zeal  and  earnest 
ness  to  improve  this  blessed  gift,  and  to  be  more  watchful 
and  holy  in  all  my  life.  "  O  for  a  closer  walk  with  God." 
In  two  Sabbaths  from  this,  I  may  possibly,  by  the  blessing  of 
God,  be  with  my  beloved  relatives.  I  do  not  return  with  all 
that  improvement  in  my  health  which  was  hoped  for  from  the 
measures  that  have  been  adopted.  No  ;  though  somewhat 
better,  and  for  as  much  as  I  am  I  would  be  sincerely  thank 
ful,  I  am  still,  at  intervals,  a  sufferer,  and  sometimes  a  severe 
one,  from  the  attacks  of  my  indomitable  disorder,  which 
tenaciously  -clings  to  me  like  the  wild  beast  to  its  prey. 
Oh,  heavenly  Father,  who  layest  upon  me  this  affliction,  grant 
unto  me  meekness  and  resignation  to  bear,  and  grace  to  im 
prove  it  to  thy  glory  and  my  best  good. 

Boston,  May  29th,  Sabbath  evening. — "  Here  I  raise  my 
Ebenezer,  hither  by  thine  help  I'm  come  ;  and  I  hope,  by  thy 
good  pleasure,  safely  to  arrive  at  home."  Well  may  this  be 
the  language  of  my  heart,  in  view  of  the  exceeding  goodness 
of  God  in  preserving  me  safe  from  all  the  perils  of  the  sea, 
and  permitting  me  again  to  set  foot  upon  the  solid  land.  We 
arrived  in  the  harbor  of  Boston  last  Sunday  noon.  I  came 
on  shore  at  half  past  four  in  the  afternoon.  This  last  week  I 
have  had  "  a  feast  of  fat  things"  in  the  religious  anniversaries 
of  this  city,  which  I  seemed  providentially  to  have  arrived  in 
season  to  attend.  To-day  I  have  had  the  rich,  spiritual 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVKR,    M.D.  161 

treat,  of  hearing  two  most  excellent  discourses  from  Hev.  Dr. 
Tucker,  of  Troy,  in  the  A.  M.  from  the  text,  Col.  i.  27, 
"  Which  is  Christ  in  you  the  hope  of  glory,"  in  the  P.  M 
from  the  51st  Psalm,  "Restore  unto  me  the  joys  of  thy  sal 
vation" — both  pregnant  with  sound  experimental  truth,  which 
it  was  a  spiritual  feast  for  me  to  hear. 

I  have  had  a  most  happy  Sabbath — I  think  the  most  so  of  any 
in  my  life,  except  those  that  immediately  followed  my  spiritual 
birth.  Indeed,  the  whole  week,  take  it  all  together,  has  been  one 
of  the  happiest  I  ever  spent.  I  have  felt  all  day  to  sing  the 
praises  of  God  for  his  abounding  goodness  to  me  ;  and  have 
had  sweet  communion  with  Christ  my  blessed  Saviour,  to 
whom  I  have  this  afternoon  renewedly  consecrated  all  that  I 
am,  and  all  that  I  have,  to  be  forever  and  entirely  his ;  and, 
I  think,  never  did  I  do  it  with  more  entire  sincerity,  greater 
delight  and  spiritual  enjoyment.  Oh,  what  a  blessed  privilege 
it  is  to  surrender  to  God's  disposal  all  that  we  have  and  are  ! 
Jesus,  my  God,  to  thee  I  consecrate  my  heart,  my  life,  my 
soul,  my  being  :  thine  ne'er  to  part. 


u  The  Lord  has  breathed  upon  a  worm, 

And  sent  me,  from  above, 
Wings  such  as  clothe  an  angel's  form, 
The  wings  of  joy  and  love. 

With  these  to  Pisgah's  top  I  fly, 

And  there  delighted  stand, 
To  view  beneath  a  shining  sky, 

The  spacious  promised  land 

The  Lord  of  all  the  vast  domain 

Has  promised  it  to  me  ; 
The  length  and  breadth  of  all  the  plain, 

As  far  as  faith  can  see. 

Though  much  exalted  in  the  Lord, 
My  strength  is  not  my  own  ; 

Then  let  me  tremble  at  his  word, 
And  none  shall  cast  me  down," 


MEMORIALS   OF   THE  LIFE 


CHAPTEE   VII. 

FOBMATION    OF     CHARACTER     THROUGH     SUFFERING     AT 
HOME   AND   ABROAD. 

0  suffering,  how  much  to  thee  I  owe, 
Though  dark  thou  be  ; 

The  lessons  it  imports  me  most  to  know, 

I  owe  to  thee  ! 
A  sacred  seminary  thou  hast  been, 

1  trust,  to  train  me  to  a  happier  scene. 

In  time  of  illness,  suffering  and  alone, 

My  friends  withdrawn, 
The  blessed  beams  of  heavenly  truth  have  shone 

On  me,  forlorn  ! 

With  such  a  hallowed  vividness  and  power 
As  ne'er  were  granted  to  a  brighter  hour. 

ANON. 

How  closely  the  experience  recorded  in  this  bio 
graphy  corresponds  with  that  traced  in  these  lines, 
has  been  already  seen,  and  it  will  be  yet  more  appa 
rent  in  the  present  chapter.  Affliction  always  has 
more  to  do  in  the  formation  of  character  and  habits, 
than  we  are  aware  of.  Cecil  says,  "  J^ever  was  there 
a  man  of  deep  piety  who  has  not  been  brought  into 
extremities' — who  has  not  been  put  into  the  fire — who 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          163 

has  not  been  taught  to  say,  '  Though  he  slay  me,  yet 
will  I  trust  in  him.'  "  The  general  experience  of  God's 
people  endorses  this  :  it  is  in  the  furnace  that  their 
gold  is  tried,  separated,  and  refined.  It  is  in  afflic 
tion  that  we  learn  God's  statutes  ;  there  it  is  that 
they  are  indelibly  written,  as  with  the  point  of  a 
diamond,  on  the  tablet  of  our  hearts.  The  beloved 
subject  of  these  memorials  might  have  written  what 
he  often  felt : 

O  sacred  suffering  !     In  that  bright  abode 

Where  there  is  no  more  pain, 
If  through  the  merits  of  my  Saviour-God 

A  seat  I  gain, 

This  theme  shall  tune  my  golden  harp's  soft  lays, 
That  in  thy  shelter  passed  my  early  days. 

It  was  undoubtedly  by  suffering  in  his  early  days, 
and  by  suffering  protracted  into  manhood,  that  he  was 
sanctified.  He  used  often  to  say  with  Jeremiah^ 
though  never  complaining,  "  I  am  the  man  that  hath 
seen  affliction.  Correct  me,  but  not  with  anger,  lest 
thou  bring  me  to  nothing."  It  was  his  constant  prayer 
that  his  affliction  might  not  be  lost,  and  the  senti 
ments,  if  not  the  language  of  a  Scripture  sonnet,  were 
often  on  his  lips  : 

We  need  not  ask  for  suffering ;  when  its  test 

Comes,  we  may  prove  too  faithless  to  endure. 
We  need  not  ask  for  suffering;  it  were  best 

We  wait  God's  holy  orderings  to  ensure 
Our  highest  good.     But  we  may  ask  from  him, 

That  not  one  throb  of  grief,  one  dart  of  pain, 
One  burning  throb  of  anguish,  pierce  in  vain 

This  feeble  being  in  its  faith  so  dim — 


164:  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

This  fainting  frame,  or  this  o'er-burdened  heart, 
We  may  implore  him  he  would  grace  impart, 
And  strength  to  suffer  still  as  the  beloved 

Of  his  own  bosom.     For  of  all  below, 

The  one  affliction  in  this  world  of  woe 
Most  sad,  is  an  affliction  unimproved. 

There  is  abundant  evidence  in  the  case  of  which 
this  volume  is  a  memorial,  that  by  the  grace  of  God, 
affliction  was  so  improved  as  to  be  transmuted  into  a 
blessing — the  trial  turned  into  a  triumph.  The  first 
Sabbath  after  his  arrival  in  Boston,  he  solemnly  re 
newed  his  covenant  with  his  Maker  in  the  following 
terms,  filed  among  his  papers,  and  entitled, 

A  SOLEMN  BUT  CHEERFUL  DEDICATION  OF  ALL  THAT  I  AM 
AND  HAVE  TO  GOD,  AND  COVENANT  WITH  HIM,  TO  BE  HIS 
FOR  TIME  AND  ETERNITY. 

Oh,  thou  Righteous,  All-seeing,  and  Omnipresent  God  ! 
Thou,  in  the  beginning,  didst  bring  me  into  this  probationary 
world !  Thou  watchedst  over  me  during  the  critical  period 
of  infancy  !  thou  hast  protected  me  from  all  the  accidents, 
and  in  all  the  dangers  to  which  I  have  been  exposed  ;  hast 
shielded  me  from  the  shafts  of  death,  which  have  flown  thick 
around  me  ;  hast  said  unto  the  waves  of  disease  that  have 
well-nigh  overwhelmed  me,  "  Hitherto  shall  ye  come,  and  no 
farther ;"  and  having  obtained  help  of  thee,  I  continue  unto 
this  day.  Notwithstanding  all  my  enormous  guilt,  which 
might  have  provoked  thee  to  the  utmost  extent  of  thy  right 
eous  wrath,  and  sunk  me  to  endless  ruin,  in  the  regions  of 
despair,  where  hope  never  comes,  I  am  yet  alive,  and  in  the 
enjoyment  of  blessings  of  invaluable  worth — thy  holy  Word, 
which  is  able  to  guide  me  in  the  way  of  life,  and  thy  Gospel, 
which  bringeth  the  good  news  and  glad  tidings  of  a  Saviour's 
righteousness.  It  is  not  on  account  of  any  works  or  wor- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          165 

thiness  of  my  own,  that  I  am  not  in  a  land  where  heathenish 
darkness  and  idolatry  prevail,  and  that  I  am  in  a  part  of  the 
world  where  the  blessed  light  of  the  Gospel  is  enjoyed  to  its 
full  extent ;  but  it  is  of  thy  rich,  free,  sovereign  mercy  and  grace. 
And  it  was  only  thy  matchless  love  that  ever  inclined  my 
heart  (as  I  hope  it  has  been)  to  accept  of  salvation  thus, 
freely  offered. 

Why  am  I  not  in  the  condition  of  thousands  around  me, 
who  hear  the  same  precious  invitations,  but  still  reject  them  ? 
Oh  Lord,  I  can  only  answer,  "  By  thy  free  grace  am  I  saved, 
and  that  not  of  myself,  it  is  the  gift  of  God."  0  Lord,  I  have 
again  and  again,  privately  and  publicly,  before  God,  men,  and 
angels,  solemnly  dedicated  myself  to  thy  service  and  glory, 
to  be  thy  faithful  servant  as  long  as  I  live  ;  and  though  I 
have  been  most  faithless  to  my  covenant  engagements — 
though  thou  mightest  justly  forbid  me  ever  to  take 
thy  name  upon  my  lips,  and  forever  shut  me  out  from 
thy  presence  and  blessings,  yet  I  thank  thee,  oh  Lord,  I 
thank  thee  that  I  have  been  permitted  so  to  do.  Blessed  be 
thy  name,  that  thou  ever  disposedst  me  thus,  and  that  I  now 
feel  disposed  to  come  and  renew  my  covenant  with  thee. 
Thou,  oh  Lord,  art  the  author  of  all  the  good  dispositions  of 
my  heart ;  they  are  not  of  my  own  creation.  I  am  naturally 
vile,  conceived  in  sin,  shapen  in  iniquity,  full  of  all  unclean- 
ness  and  deadly  impurity.  I  bless  thee  that  though  sin  re- 
iijaineth  in  me,  and  to  a  lamentable  degree,  yet  that  I  have 
ever  felt  (as  I  hope  I  have)  the  purifying,  sanctifying  appli 
cation  of  a  Saviour's  atoning  blood,  and  that  I  am  permitted 
daily  to  wash  my  soul  in  that  precious  fountain.  And,  O 
God,  do  thou  now  forgive,  for  thy  dear  Son's  sake,  my  Re 
deemer  and  Mediator,  all  my  sins  of  every  nature  that  I  have 
ever  committed,  whether  of  thought,  word,  or  deed,  aggra 
vated  and  numberless  as  they  are.  Oh,  for  Jesus'  sake  for 
give  them,  and  wash  away  all  my  guilty  stains  in  his  cleans 
ing,  atoning  blood. 


166  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

I  would,  I  do  now  unreservedly  and  forever  dedicate  my 
self  to  thee,  and  to  thy  service — to  the  performance  and  suf 
fering  of  thy  holy  will.  I  would  henceforward  feel  that  I  am 
not  my  own  but  thine — that  I  am  not  placed  here  for  the 
accomplishment  of  my  own  selfish  desires  and  purposes,  but 
for  thy  glory — to  accomplish  thy  will,  whatever  it  may  be, 
and  in  whatever  way  thou  mayest  appoint.  I  take  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  to  be  my  Saviour,  Priest,  and  King,  and  would 
obey  his  Gospel,  and  walk  in  his  footsteps.  I  take  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  be  my  sanctifier,  comforter,  and  guide.  I  pray 
that  my  heart  may  be  made  a  meet  temple  for  his  residence, 
and  that  he  may  dwell  therein  continually.  And  oh,  heaven 
ly  Comforter,  do  thou  help  me  to  fulfil  faithfully  all  the  obli 
gations  of  this  covenant,  and  all  others  that  are  binding  upon 
me  to  the  very  end  of  my  life.  And  iu  the  solemn,  trying 
hour  of  death,  do  thou,  0  Holy  Spirit,  fill  my  soul  with  firm, 
unwavering  faith  in  Jesus,  my  blessed  Redeemer,  with  de 
lightful,  rapturous  thoughts,  and  unutterable  foretastes  of 
heavenly  bliss,  with  calm,  serene  peace,  of  which  the  pangs 
of  death  cannot  rob  me. 

Oh  blessed  Saviour  and  Redeemer,  put  underneath  me 
thine  everlasting  arms,  and  sustain  me  under  the  pains  of 
dissolving  nature,  and  "  though  I  walk  through  the  dark 
valley  and  shadow  of  death,  may  I  fear  no  evil ;  thy  rod  and 
thy  staff  may  they  comfort  me."  And,  0  Holy  Trinity, 
unitedly  and  separately,  help  me  to  keep  unbroken  this  cove 
nant — to  resist  all  temptations  to  sin,  and  join  to  give  me 
strength  in  my  dying  hour  ;  and  may  I  glorify  God  in  my 
dying  conduct,  and  bear  abundant  and  indisputable  evidence 
of  the  power  and  blessedness  of  the  religion  of  Christ.  And 
may  this  my  covenant,  made  on  earth,  be  ratified  in  heaven. 
Oh  God,  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  be  with  me  in  all  my 
earthly  pilgrimage,  be  it  long  or  soon  to  come  to  a  close,  and 
in  death,  and  finally  receive  me  to  the  enjoyment  of  everlast 
ing  glory  and  happiness.  Amen.  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER. 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEB,  M.D.          167 

This  covenant  was  drawn  up  on  the  third  anniversary  of 
the  solemn  dedication  of  myself  to  God  ;  has  since  been 
many  times  solemnly  renewed,  and  I  have  now  transcribed  it 
from  my  diary,  and  again  renewed  it  with  prayer  and  solem 
nity  this  day,  Saturday,  June  20th,  1835.  Oh,  Divine  Spirit, 
assist  me  to  keep  its  solemn  requirements. 

At  Malaga,  Friday,  August  2lst,  1835. — I  have  this  day 
renewed  my  covenant,  and  do  thou,  oh  God,  assist  me  by  thy 
powerful  grace  to  live  according  to  its  tenor  in  the  mkfst  of 
the  new  circumstances  of  trial  and  temptation  in  which  I  am 
now  placed.  I  renewed  this  solemn  covenant  on  its  fifth 
anniversary,  Sunday,  November  15th,  1835,  at  Malaga. 

New  Orleans,  March  30th,  1836,  Wednesday  evening. — 
Safely  preserved  from  all  the  dangers  of  the  great  deep,  and 
brought  yesterday  to  this  port  in  peace,  I  have  now  solemnly 
renewed  my  covenant ;  and  oh,  gracious  God,  grant  me  grace 
cheerfully  and  faithfully  to  fulfil  it,  in  the  midst  of  the  cor 
ruption  and  temptation  of  this  wicked  world. 

Boston,  May  29th,  1836,  Sabbath  P.  M. — This  day  would 
I  most  gratefully  erect  another  Ebenezer  to  commemorate  the 
unutterable  goodness  of  God  in  permitting  me,  last  Sabbath, 
again  to  set  foot  on  my  native  shores  ;  and  in.  thankful  acknow 
ledgment  of  his  unnumbered  mercies,  I  have,  with  much  spiri 
tual  joy,  again  renewed  this  solemn  covenant,  and  I  think  I 
never  felt  to  do  it  with  more  delightful  sincerity  and  unre- 
servedness  than  I  have  this  afternoon.  Oh,  the  joy  of  an 
entire  and  eternal  consecration  of  soul  and  body  to  Jesus, 
and  the  blessed  calmness  and  serenity  that  follows  such  a  con- 
secratiot. 

Jesus  now  am  I  thine, 

Thine  would  I  ever  be, 
Thine  through  all  fleeting  time, 

Thine  in  eternity. 

At  aboiit  the  same  time  with   this   entry  in  the 


168  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

Journal,  is  the  date  of  a  letter  to  his  brother  in  "New 
Orleans,  from  which,  we  copy  the  following  ex 
tracts  : 

You  will  be  able  to  conceive  the  loneliness  of  my  feelings 
yesterday  on  stepping  ashore  alone,  a  poor,  weak  invalid, 
without  any  dear  friend  to  speak  to,  and  without  you  who 
have  been  a  partaker  in  all  the  various  changes  of  situation 
and  circumstances,  which  we  have  mutually  undergone  during 
the  past  year.  I  am  now  but  just  recovering  from  a  pretty 
severe  attack  of  my  inveterate  malady,  which  came  on  the 
few  last  days  of  our  passage.  Indeed,  I  was  not  well  for 
most  the  voyage.  All  the  time  I  felt  anxious  about  you, 
although  I  can  commit  and  commend  you  to  God,  who  has 
now  again  added  to  his  mercies  in  permitting  me  to  land  safe 
from  all  the  dangers  of  the  sea,  which,  perhaps,  have  been 
more  upon  this  voyage  than  any  other,  as  we  have  been  much 
of  the  time  on  soundings,  and  not  a  great  distance  from  land  ; 
and  to  this  circumstance  I  greatly  attribute  it  that  I  have 
not  experienced  more  benefit  from  the  voyage,  though  for  a 
part  of  it  I  was  finely.  We  had  one  rain  squall  in  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  which  was  more  severe,  I  think,  than  any  you  or 
I  ever  witnessed  ;  and  even  our  captain,  who  has  been  to  sea 
for  about  twenty-five  years,  and  master  of  a  vessel  for 
twenty-two,  seemed  to  think  it  something.  It  blew  into  rib 
bons  almost  instantly,  our  jib  and  foro-top  sail,  which  burst 
with  the  report  of  a  gun.  But  the  Lord,  in  much  mercy, 
preserved  us  from  the  violence  of  the  winds  and  the  waves  ; 
and  to  him  be  the  praise. 

My  fellow  passenger,  though  a  distiller  of  New  Orleans 
rum,  was  a  very  shrewd,  intelligent  man,  and  I  obtained  from 
him  much  valuable  information.  I  wrote  about  twenty-eight 
or  thirty  pages  in  my  Journal  on  the  passage,  and  was  finish 
ing  up  when  a  new  battery  opened  upon  me  from  my  old 
enemy,  the  asthma,  whose  iron  grasp  still  clinches  me  with 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEE,  M.D.          169 

the  hold  of  a  screw-vice,  or  rather  with  a  strength  that  I 
find  language  inadequate  to  express.  Yet  I  think,  in 
looking  back,  that  I  am,  on  the  whole,  much  better  than 
when  I  was  here  last  year  on  our  way  to  embark ;  and  do 
not,  dear  brother,  be  too  much  grieved  that  this  expedition 
has  not  been  blessed  to  the  wished-for  extent ;  but  let  us 
both  be  deeply  and  humbly  grateful  to  God,  that  he  has  per 
mitted  us  to  return  at  all,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  so  many 
great  blessings. 

My  spirits  are  and  have  been  good,  and  I  felt  the  bless 
ing  and  comfort,  on  the  voyage,  of  a  throne  of  grace  to  resort 
to,  of  an  inward  life  of  my  own,  and  communion  with  God, 
our  Saviour.  I  think  I  can,  with  faith,  commit  my  soul 
entirely  to  him ;  I  had  some  very  pleasant  feelings  during 
the  severe  squall, ~and  felt  like  saying,  "  Into  thy  hands,  O 
Lord,  I  commit  my  spirit,"  for  we  were  for  some  minutes  in 
great  danger  of  going  to  the  bottom.  That  beautiful  hymn, 
"  Jesus  my  God,  I  know  his  name,"  came  very  appro 
priately  to  my  mind,  and  dear  brother,  it  is  in  such  moments 
as  these  that  we  feel  our  need  of  something  more  than  human 
support,  and  of  a  calm  and  happy  prospect  beyond  the  reach 
of  death  and  sin.  Let  us  both  continually  cultivate  an  humble 
spirit  of  prayer,  and  a  deep  sense  of  eternal  realities,  and  then 
shall  we  be  best  prepared  for  our  duties  in  this  life,  and  above 
all,  for  happiness  and  glory  beyond  it. 

I  am  sorry  that  you  should  now  be  grieved  by  hearing,  as 
you  have  been  during  the  past  year  by  seeing  me  a  severe 
sufferer  under  the  distressing  asthma,  which  you  have  with  so 
much  tenderness  and  assiduity  tried  to  alleviate  ;  but  so  it  is  ; 
this  incubus,  this  mountain-weight  upon  my  bodily  and  mental 
activity,  still  maintains  its  seat,  and  seems  sometimes  as  though 
it  would  press  me  into  the  grave.  But  thanks  be  to  God,  I 
trust  through  his  grace,  I  have  a  support,  a  blessed  buoy  which 
will  sustain  and  elevate  my  soul  in  all  the  deep  waters  of  af 
fliction  that  I  may  yet  have  to  pass  through,  and  in  the  stnig- 
8 


170  MEMORIALS    OF  THE   LIFE 

gle  with  the   cold  billows  of  Jordan,  which  I  may  soon  en 
ter. 

In  this  connection,  as  revealing  his  love  for  souls, 
his  fidelity  to  his  Master,  and  his  deep  interest  for  the 
personal  salvation  of  all  with  whom  he  had  inter 
course,  we  insert  the  following  copy  of  a  note  found 
among  his  papers,  to  a  Spanish  gentleman,  with  whom 
he  had  been  taking  lessons  in  music  : 

Boston,  June  1st,  1836. 

SEXOR  DON  ANGUERA — Mi  CARO  SE^OR — I  expect  to 
leave  the  city  in  a  day  or  two,  and  shall  not  have  the  great 
pleasure  of  taking  any  more  lessons  on  the  guitar,  but  hope 
again  to  repeat  them  in  a  few  weeks.  I  believe  I  settled  with 
you  for  all  I  took,  and  for  everything  else.  And  now,  dear 
sir,  permit  me  kindly  to  ask,  if  you  and  I  should  never  meet 
again  in  this  world  more,  where  do  you  think  we  should  meet — 
in  heaven  or  hell  ?  in  a  world  of  peace  and  purity,  or  in  one 
of  u  endless  ruin,  deep  despair  ?"  Oh,  my  dear  sir,  this  is  an 
awfully  solemn  question,  and  one  that  it  behooves  each  one  of 
us  to  answer  as  in  the  sight  of  God,  who  is  to  be  the  judge.  In 
Jesus  Christ  there  is  happiness  and  peace  ;  and  "  there  is  no 
other  name  given  among  men  whereby  we  can  be  saved."  Oh, 
lot  both,  dear  sir,  seek  and  find  an  interest  in  him,  and  then 
all  will  be  well  with  us,  whether  we  meet  again  in  this  world 
or  not.  May  this  blessed  hope  which,  by  the  unutterable 
mercy  of  (rod  I  enjoy,  be  yours,  and  then  shall  we  meet  in 
heaven,  and  tune  our  harps  to  his  praise.  Yours  truly, 

N.  C. 

The  ensuing  summer,  spent  under  the  maternal  roof, 
was  one  of  much  suffering,  but  also  of  strong  consolation, 
to  which  there  are  allusions  in  the  following  letter  to 
his  eldest  brother  at  Salem.  It  was  a  trial  all  the 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          171 

more  painful  to  him,  that  his  continued  and  alarming 
ill  health  now  rendered  it  necessary  to  detach  his 
brother  awhile  from  his  ministerial  charge,  in  order  to 
accompany  him  to  sea.  This  course  was  clearly  in 
dicated  by  Providence,  and  preparations  were  accord 
ingly  made  for  it. 

Hallowell,  August  3rd,  1836. 

MOST  DEARLY  BELOVED  BROTHER — Physical  inability  alone 
has  prevented  me  from  writing  hitherto.  I  have  suffered  very 
severely  for  several  weeks  from  my  asthma,  which  seems  almost 
to  have  become  habitual,  and  to  have  been  aggravated  instead 
of  relieved,  as  we  hoped,  by  my  visit  to  Harpswell.  But  this 
goes  nothing  against  a  long  sea  voyage,  since  you  well  know, 
and  I  from  experience,  the  vast  difference  in  the  air  on  and  off 
soundings. 

I  long  to  reciprocate  your  kind  attentions,  and  to  talk  to  you 
freely  of  our  Blessed  Redeemer,  and  the  consolations  of  His 
presence  which  He  has  mercifully  permitted  me  to  enjoy  during 
my  severe  sufferings.  0  the  blessedness  of  His  love,  and  the 
sacred  consolations  He  can  afford  to  the  weary  soul.  I  some 
times  feel  almost  constrained  to  cry  out — "  Friends,  is  not 
my  case  amazing,  what  a  Saviour  I  have  found?"  And  I 
have  felt  much  of  the  spirit  of  those  other  lines—  "  0  that  all 
the  blind  but  knew  him" — for  I  have  longed  that  others  should 
come  and  drink  of  this  water,  which  is  indeed  a  well  of  ever 
lasting  life.  I  think  I  have  enjoyed  much  of  the  serene 
spirit  of  resignation,  and  pray  that  I  may  have  it  more  and 
more  under  this,  and  all  other  trials  which  the  Lord,  in  His 
Holy  Providence,  may  see  fit  to  lay  upon  me. 

I  seem  to  be  between  two  or  three  fires.  It  would  be  delightful 
to  spend  the  winter  with  uncle  at  Malaga,  and  inexpressibly  sweet 
to  remain  by  the  fireside  at  home  with  dear  Mother  and  E.  and 
all  our  domestic  endearments  ;  but  my  stern,  unrelenting  dis 
order,  says — "  GO  TO  SEA,"  and  this  I  feel  to  Tbe  my  duty, 


172  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

notwithstanding  the  great  sacrifice  of  feeling  and  inclination  it 
will  require.   « 

Passing  over  the  remainder  of  the  summer,  we  re 
sume  the  private  journal,  still  in  the  bosom  of  his 
childhood's  home,  on  the  Kennebec. 

October  6th,  1836. — I  am  expecting  to  leave  in  about  ten 
days,  to  embark  for  Malaga,  with  my  beloved  brother  George, 
who  will  go  from  thence  to  other  parts  of  Europe.  I  have 
been  four  months  enjoying  the  delightful  privileges  and  kindly 
influences  of  home  ;  and  now,  that  I  am  again  going  abroad,  I 
need  most  urgently  a  renewed  supply  of  heavenly  wisdom  and 
grace,  and  well  I  know  that  is  not  to  be  obtained  but  by 
earnest,  humble  perseverance  in  prayer.  I  need  much  wisdom 
and  prudence  to  curb  my  naturally  rather  rash  and  imprudent 
temperament.  Let  me  constantly  aim  at  meekness  and 
humility  in  my  heart,  and  modesty  and  gentleness  in  my  man 
ners.  u  Let  me  be  slow  to  speak,  and  swift  to  hear."  It  is 
my  failing  on  many  occasions  to  speak  too  much,  and  now  let 
me  try  and  cure  it. 

At  sea,  skip  Empress,  Dec.  4tk,  1836. — This  is  our  seventeenth 
day  from  New  York,  and  by  the  Lord's  unspeakable  goodness 
we  have  been  preserved  from  all  accident,  having  experienced 
some  very  severe  weather.  The  sea  has  had  its  former  good 
effects  upon  my  health,  and  I  have  great  reason  for  gratitude. 
0  that  I  could  perceive  an  increase  of  spiritual  health  !  but 
here  I  most  urgently  need  the  invigorating  influence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  to  quicken  me  heavenward,  and  break  up  my 
habits  of  spiritual  sloth.  I  want  to  set  the  Lord  always  be 
fore  me,  to  keep  near  to  Christ  every  moment  by  faith  and 
prayer. 

The  city  of  Malaga  was  again  reached  in  safety  by 
the  two  brothers,  and  a  residence  there  was  found  yet 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.         173 

more  salubrious  than  before,  to  the  invalid.  The  let 
ters  and  Journal  of  travel  and  observations .  relating 
to  this  period  we  pass  over,  because,  though  full  of 
information  and  interest,  they  do  not  exhibit  the  cha 
racter  of  the  writer  in  any  new  light,  nor  do  they 
bear  in  any  important  degree  upon  the  future. 

The  year  1837  opened  propitiously  with  cheering 
prospects  of  health  upon  its  wings,  and  with  hope  and 
gratitude  swelling  in  the  heart.  The  expectations  of 
friends  and  physician  were  sanguine  and  seemingly 
well  founded,  that  a  year's  continued  residence  in  the 
genial  climate  of  far-famed  Andalusia,  at  the  critical 
period  when  he  was  passing  from  youth  to  manhood, 
would  quite  establish  his  constitution,  and  win  a  quit 
claim  deed  from  its  tenacious  invader,  the  asthma. 
So  hoped  and  earnestly  prayed  himself  and  his  kin 
dred.  A  record  in  the  Private  Journal  early  in  the 
month  of  January,  says  : 

Another  year  has  commenced  its  course,  and  finds  me  in 
company  with  my  beloved  brother,  at  my  Uncle's  house,  with 
great  reason  to  feel  deeply  and  speak  much  of  the  goodness 
of  God.  I  have  not  suffered  a  severe  attack  of  my  asthma 
since  I  arrived,  although  I  was  then  just  recovering  from  one 
that  came  on  the  few  last  days  of  our  voyage.  I  am  reading 
Philip's  "  Love  of  the  Spirit" — an  excellent,  experimental  work. 
Oh  that  I  experienced  more  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit  in  my  own 
soul.  It  is  an  unworthy  temple,  and  entertains  guests  with 
which  he  cannot  abide.  Oh  Lord,  help  me  to  arise,  and  drive 
away  these  sinful  intruders.  Oh,  purify  my  heart  from  all 
sin,  and  make  it  indeed  a  temple  meet  for  the  residence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit. 


174:  MEMORIALS  OF  THE  LIFE 

Thy  mansion  is  the  Christian's  heart, 

0  Lord,  thy  dwelling-place  secure ! 
Bid  the  unruly  throng  depart, 

And  leave  the  consecrated  door. 
Oh,  for  the  joy  thy  presence  gives, 

What  peace  shall  reign  when  thoU  art  here  1 
Thy  presence  makes  this  den  of  thieve* 

A  calm  delightful  house  of  prayer. 

In  a  new  volume  of  his  second  Journal,  intended 
for  friends,  and  affectionately  dedicated  to  his  next 
elder  brother,  there  is  a  very  particular  and  full 
account  of  his  visit  to  the  ancient  Capital  of  the  Moors 
in  Spain,  and  of  all  that  was  to  be  seen  there.  But  the 
architectural  remains,  and  legends,  and  lovely  scenery 
of  Granada  and  the  Alhambra,  have  been  so  often 
described,  that  we  omit  all  but  the  mere  itinerary  of 
his  route  to  Granada  and  return. 

Malaga,  March  3lst. — Since  I  last  wrote,  I  have  had  the 
great  pleasure  of  visiting,  with  my  dear  brother,  the  imperial 
city  of  G-ranada,  far  and  justly  famed  for  the  beauty  of  its  Moor 
ish  palace,  the  Alhambra.  Having  made  our  arrangements  for 
departure  on  the  previous  day,  on  Tuesday,  the  21st  of  this 
month,  we  started  upon  our  journey,  our  party  consisting  of  Dr. 
"Woodworth,  of  the  United  States  Navy,  George,  and  myself, 
with  our  amusing  cochero  Bautista,  a  native  of  Genoa,  and  the 
owner  of  the  horses  and  carriage,  accompanied  by  his  dog,  a 
shaggy,  dirty  animal,  who  seemed  well  acquainted  with  the 
road,  trotting  bravely  on  before  the  carriage,  and  ever  and 
anon  when  tired  sharing  the  seat  with  his  master,  from  whose 
wallet  of  provisions  he  occasionally  received  a  bit  of  bread, 
always  devoured  with  much  eagerness. 

We  were  for  several  hours  in  sight  of  Malaga,  winding  our 
way  slowly  around  the  high  range  of  mountains  that  lies  to 
the  north  clad  with  vines  and  olive-trees.  The  vines  at  this 


OF  NATHANIEL  OHEEVEK,  M.D.          175 

time  of  the  year,  are  destitute  of  any  leaves,  and  being  prun 
ed  entirely  close,  without  leaving  a  single  shoot,  they  look 
like  so  many  small,  black  stumps,  arranged  in  rows  up  and 
down  the  mountains.  About  noon  we  passed  on  the  right  the 
village  of  Colmenar — a  small  town  situated  on  the  declivity 
of  one  of  the  mountains  that  surround  it.  Here  begin  to 
cease  the  vine-clad  hills  and  olive  groves  that  surround 
Malaga,  and  give  to  the  view  so  picturesque  and  beautiful  an 
appearance.  We  continued  our  way  through  an  uninteresting 
region  to  the  solitary  Venta,  near  Alfanate,  where  we  arrived 
about  six  o'clock. 

It  had  been  cloudy,  cold,  and  rainy  during  the  day,  and 
we  were  glad  to  get  to  any  resting-place,  although  there  was  but 
little  here  to  cheer  a  weary  traveller.  It  was  a  dreary,  com 
fortless-looking  place,  built  in  the  form  of  a  hollow  square, 
having  two  gates  leading  into  the  court-yard  in  the  centre, 
from  whence  we  passed  into  the  kitchen,  at  the  end  of  which 
a  huge-throated  chimney,  without  jambs,  received  the  smoke 
of  a  fire.  Around  this  were  seated  a  group  of  peasants. 
One  of  them  a  black,  unshaven,  villanous-looking  fellow,  had 
a  guitar,  on  which  he  was  playing  ever  and  anon,  the  same 
ceaseless  tune  that  salutes  our  ears  so  often  at  Malage,  and  is 
sung  all  over  Spain,  proceeding  apparently  more  from  the 
organs  of  the  nose  than  those  of  the  mouth,  so  nasal  and 
drawling  is  its  sound.  He  seemed  to  have  a  high  opinion  of 
his  powers  as  a  musician,  and  to  think  he  was  affording  in 
finite  amusement  to  those  around. 

This  party  were  paisanos,  or  countrymen,  who  had  come  in 
to  pass  the  evening,  and  who  lived  in  the  vicinity.  I  should 
have  said,  that  when  we  entered,  they  were  supping  together 
with  the  Amo  de  Casa,  or  landlord,  at  a  small  table  in  front  of 
the  fire,  to  which  they  afterwards  adjourned,  continuing  to 
pass  around  the  wine,  which  they  drank  by  tumblers  full. 
They  soon  proved  its  nature,  though  not  so  as  to  lose  the  com 
mand  of  themselves  ;  but  we  thought  as  they  left  the  Venta 


176  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

at  the  close  of  the  evening,  armed  with  their  carbines,  how 
readily,  in  that  state,  they  would  commit  a  robbery  on  any 
luckless  traveller  they  might  meet  on  their  way  home. 

The  circle  round  the  fire  was  increased  in  the  course 
of  the  evening,  by  the  arrival  of  two  Gal  eras  from  G-ranada, 
laden  with  men,  women,  and  children,  stowed  together  on  the 
top  of  whatever  other  lumber  these  clumsy  vehicles  might 
carry.  They  are  a  heavy,  ill-constructed  kind  of  baggage- 
wagon,  covered  at  the  top,  and  drawn  by  six  or  eight  mules, 
and  compared  with  things  of  the  kind  in  our  own  country,  they 
appear  one  or  two  centuries  behind  the  age.  The  arrival  of 
the  Graleras  with  the  living  cargo  they  brought,  made  a  busy 
and  amusing  scene  ;  the  fire  began  to  be  put  in  requisition  to 
prepare  the  messes  of  the  different  parties,  and  the  servant- 
girls,  though  they  might  have  been  idle  during  the  day,  had 
now  as  much  work  as  their  hands  could  perform.  We  had  en 
gaged  our  Cuartos,  or  chambers,  before  the  arrival  of  the 
Galeras,  and  in  such  as  they  were,  we  passed  the  night. 

We  were  aroused  in  the  morning  at  half-past  five,  by  the 
stentorian  voice  of  the  man-servant  of  the  inn,  saying  at  our  door 
Arriba  se  va  El  coche,  "  Up,  the  coach  is  going,"  at  the  same 
time  prefacing  this  announcement  by  a  tremendous  knock. 
Having  taken  a  cup  of  chocolate  with  bread,  we  again  com 
menced  our  journey  at  a  quarter  to  seven  ;  passing  the  small  vil 
lage  of  Alfanate  on  our  right,  romantically  situated  at  the  foot  of 
a  mountain.  Our  road  was  less  mountainous  than  the  day  be 
fore,  but  not  easier  to  travel.  The  mountains  so  inlay  each 
other,  that  it  is  impossible  sometimes  to  tell  where  it  will  lead 
you,  and  there  are  so  many  windings  and  turnings,  some  of 
them  almost  at  right  angles,  and  many  quite  unnecessary,  that 
it  makes  the  distance  one  has  to  go  over,  double  or  quadruple 
more  than  it  is  in  a  straight  line.  Granada  is  but  fifty-five 
miles  from  Malaga,  in  a  N.  E.  line  ;  but  by  the  road  you  have 
to  travel  nearly  seventy. 

About  noon  we  arrived  at  Loxa,  an  ancient  strong-hold  of 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          177 

the  Moors,  and  the  key  to  the  Yega  of  Granada.  Its  position 
is  very  romantic,  and  there  are  upon  the  top  of  a  rugged  pre 
cipitous  hill,  in  the  midst  of  the  town,  the  remains  of  its 
Moorish  castle  and  fort.  It  cost  the  Christians  much  blood 
shed  to  take  this  place,  for  the  Moors  disputed  its  possession 
with  desperate  courage.  Though  built  on  a  rocky  declivity, 
at  its  foot  is  a  beautiful  valley  watered  by  the  river  Xenil,  and 
covered  with  orchards  and  green  fields.  This  ancient  city 
commanded  the  entrance  to  the  Vega  of  Granada,  and  was  a 
place  of  great  importance  under  the  Moors.  More  than  once 
they  repulsed  the  Spaniards,  headed  by  their  warrior  king, 
Ferdinand,  from  its  walls ;  and  it  was  not  till  after  a  severe 
siege,  and  a  most  bloody,  desperate  assault,  that  it  was 
finally  taken. 

We  stopped  about  two  hours  at  the  Venta,  and  then  pur 
sued  our  way  over  a  very  rough  stony  road,  about  two  or  three 
leagues,  to  an  Inn  called  "  La  Venta  Nueva,"  where  we  passed 
the  night.  This  Inn  was  more  comfortable  than  that  of  our 
first  night's  adventure.  The  mules  and  horses  at  this  Inn  are 
stabled  on  the  same  floor  with  the  kitchen,  without  any  parti 
tion  between,  and  you  enter  from  the  carriage  into  the  midst 
of  borricos  and  muleteers. 

In  the  morning,  having  taken  our  bread  and  chocolate,  we 
started  at  a  quarter  past  six,  and  soon  began  gradually  to 
enter  upon  the  Vega  of  Granada.  As  we  slowly  wound 
through  the  Vega,  and  approached  nearer  the  city,  the  scene 
became  enchanting.  On  either  side  of  us  an  immense  plain 
covered  with  green  crops,  or  orchards  of  olive,  lemon,  and 
orange  trees,  and  sometimes  vineyards — in  front,  the  city  of 
Granada,  with  the  grey,  red  towers  of  the  Alhambra  rising 
above  it,  embowered  in  gardens  and  trees  ;  and  on  the  right 
of  the  city,  as  we  approached  it,  the  snow-covered  mountains 
of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  overtopping  all  other  objects,  and 
rearing  their  summits  above  the  clouds,  added  splendor  and 
sublimity  to  the  picture.  It  was  almost  impossible  to  realize 


178  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

that  we  were  passing  over  ground  rendered  famous  by  so 
many  historical  events  and  recollections,  and  that  we  were 
approaching  the  former  imperial  seat  of  Moorish  science  and 
magnificence. 

Santa  Fe,  the  site  of  the  camp  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
which  they  built  to  show  the  Moors  their  resolute  determi 
nation  of  taking  Granada,  is  now  but  a  small,  miserable  vil 
lage.  It  is  about  two  leagues  from  Granada,  and  we  passed 
through  it  both  in  going  and  returning,  but  saw  nothing  there 
to  indicate  its  having  been  the  former  court  of  two  powerful 
sovereigns,  and  the  scene  where  were  displayed  the  pomp  and 
chivalry  of  their  numerous  armies.  We  entered  the  city* 
through  a  broad  street,  and  soon  came  to  the  Plaza  de  los 
Toros,  or  place  of  the  bulls,  at  one  end  of  which  is  the  am 
phitheatre,  where  are  held  the  bull-fights. 

*  *  *  =&  *  * 

This  celebrated  city,  which,  at  the  time  of  its  capture  from 
the  Moors,  in  1491-2,  contained  400,000  inhabitants,  and 
armed  100,000  warriors  in  its  defence,  now  numbers  in  all  but 
about  80,000  souls.  At  that  time  it  was  three  leagues  in 
circumference,  entirely  surrounded  by  a  strong  wall,  defended 
by  a  thousand  and  thirty  towers,  and  contained  within  their 
precincts  seventy  thousand  houses.  It  then,  and  for  many 
years  afterwards,  contained  extensive  manufactures  of  silk, 
cloths,  woollen  stuffs,  etc.  ;  but  the  general  causes  that  have 
brought  on  the  decay  of  Spain,  and  the  miserable,  cruel 
policy  of  utterly  banishing  the  industrious  Moors  from  the 
soil,  have  caused  their  abandonment,  and  the  immense  de 
crease  of  population  in  this  once  densely-inhabited  city. 

When  one  thus  views  the  ruined  monuments  of  a  great  and 
noble  nation,  and  meditates  on  the  magnificence  and  grandeur 
of  their  former  empire,  he  may  well  make  the  exclamation, 
though  it  is  a  trite  one,  "  Sic  transit  gloria  mundi!"  and  he 
may  add  also  with  emphasis,  in  the  language  of  Scripture, 
"  All  flesh  is  as  grass,  and  all  the  glory  of  man  as  the  flower  of 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          179 

grass.  The  grass  withereth,  and  the  flower  thereof  falleth 
away  ;  but  the  Word  of  the  Lord  endureth  forever." 

On  our  return  to  the  Fonda,  breakfast  being  finished,  we 
soon  began  to  make  the  necessary  preparations  for  our  depar 
ture,  and  having  settled  our  bill,  and  remunerated  our  re 
doubtable  cicerone,  the  good-natured  Mateo,  in  commendation 
of  whose  worthy  qualities  we  signed  a  certificate  which  he  is 
in  the  habit  of  requesting  from  all  whom  he  guides  through 
the  Alhambra,  we  placed  ourselves  again  in  Bautista's  famous 
coach,  which,  together  with  his  horses,  dog,  and  himself,  he 
had  bestowed  in  one  of  the  posadas  of  the  city  during  the 
time  of  our  stay.  We  left  the  Fonda  about  eleven  o'clock, 
and  were,  in  due  time,  out  of  the  city  on  our  way  to  Malaga, 
through  the  lovely  plain  that  surrounds  Granada,  the  beau 
ties  of  whose  situation,  and  the  magnificence  of  whose  palaces 
we  were  both  so  soon  to  leave  ;  and  we  cast  back,  as  we  de 
parted,  many  a  lingering  look  on  the  lovely  landscape  in  our 
rear. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day,  notwithstanding  our  slow 
pace,  we  arrived  safe  at  Malaga,  with  much  reason  for  grati 
tude  in  our  preservation  from  all  the  perils  of  our  journey, 
and  glad  once  more  to  get  back  under  the  hospitable  shelter 
of  our  Uncle. 

An  extract  from  the  Private  Journal  at  this  time 
reveals  the  growth  of  the  inner  man,  and  the  concern 
he  had  for  the  improvement  of  his  spiritual  part, 
while  his  senses  and  intellect  were  exercised  in  view 
ing  and  describing  the  tilings  of  the  outward  world. 

April  9£/i,  Sabbath  evening. — On  Thursday  evening  I  had 
the  pain  of  parting  with  my  beloved  brother.  He  embarked 
on  board  the  English  steamer  "  Transit,"  for  Gibraltar  and 
Cadiz,  from  whence  he  will  take  another  boat  for  Seville,  and 
in  the  course  of  two  or  three  weeks  he  expects  to  embark 


180  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

again  at  Cadiz  for  England  by  the  next  steamer.  I  had  in 
tended  the  night  before  he  left  to  have  gone  with  him  as  far 
as  Seville,  and  to  have  returned  in  the  next  boat ;  but  I 
awaked  on  Thursday"  morning  with  the  symptoms  of  an 
asthmatic  attack,  which  has  prevented  me  from  taking  this 
pleasant  tour,  and,  at  the  same  time,  enjoying  for  a  longer 
period  of  time  the  society  of  my  beloved  brother.  This  is 
a  grievous  disappointment,  but  I  hope  it  may  be  for  my  best 
good ;  and  the  Lord  is  able  to  raise  matter  from  oar  bitterest 
trials  and  disappointments,  to  fill  our  souls  with  his  praise  and 
love. 

"We  have  been  together  constantly  for  the  last  five  or 
six  months,  and  for  nearly  three  months  and  a  half  under  the 
roof  of  our  hospitable  Uncle.  Now  that  he  is  gone,  and  I 
am  left  alone,  without  the  society  and  Christian  fellowship  I 
have  so  long  enjoyed,  I  miss  him  exceedingly,  and  feel  a  pain 
ful  void — the  more  so,  since  in  this  place  there  is  no  other 
Christian  society  with  which  I  can  mingle,  and  have  commu 
nion  of  spirit.  But  it  is  a  separation  that  was  necessary,  and 
one  to  which  I  have  been  for  a  long  time  looking  forward  ;  and 
now,  let  me  make  diligent  improvement  of  the  privileges  that 
may  ever  remain  to  me.  Let  me  use  much  the  weapon  of 
"  All  prayer,  and  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  Word 
of  God." 

Oh  blessed  Jesus,  adorable  Redeemer,  be  thou  unto  me  a 
friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother.  Draw  me  to  thy 
self,  and  illumine  my  soul  with  the  blessed  light  of  thy  coun 
tenance.  Raise  me  above  all  the  temptations  of  the  world,  the 
flesh,  and  the  devil,  and  let  no  sin  have  dominion  over  me. 
Ever  grant  me  grace  to  resist  all  my  easily  besetting  sins, 
and  to  obtain  an  entire  victory  over  them,  and,  finally,  "  to 
beat  down  Satan  under  my  feet." 


Act  but  the  gentle  infant's  part, 
Give  up  to  love  thy  willing  heart ; 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          181 

No  fondest  parent's  melting  breast 
Yearns  like  thy  God's  to  make  thee  bless'd: 
Taught  its  dear  mother  soon  to  know, 
The  tenderest  babe  its  love  can  show  ; 
Bid  thy  base,  servile  fear  retire — 
This  task  no  labor  will  require. 

Shake  from  thy  soul,  o'erwhelmed,  oppressed, 

Th'  encumbering  load  that  galls  thy  rest, 

That  wastes  thy  strength  in  bondage  vain, 

With  courage  break  th'  enthralling  chain  ; 

Let  prayer  exert  its  conquering  power,  * 

Cry  in  the  tempted,  trembling  hour, 

"  My  God,  my  Father,  save  thy  son  !7' 

>Tis  heard  ;  and  all  thy  fears  are  gone. 

MARTIN  LUTHER. 


182  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   L-IFE 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ILLUSTRATIONS     OF     SOCIETY}    MANNERS,   AND     MORALS    IN 
SPAIN. 

And  here  and  there,  as  up  the  crags  you  spring, 
Mark  many  rude-carved  crosses  near  the  path ; 
Yet  deem  not  these  devotion's  offering — 
These  are  memorials  frail  of  murderous  wrath ; 
For  wheresoe'er  the  shrinking  victim  hath 
Poured  forth  his  blood  beneath  the  assassin's  knife, 
Some  hand  erects  a  cross  of  mouldering  lath ; 
And  grove  and  glen  with  thousand  such  are  rife, 
Throughout  this  purple  land,  where  law  secures  not  life. 

CHILDE  HAROLD. 

AT  the  time  of  our  residence  in  the  south  of  Spain, 
the  condition  of  the  country  was  very  much  the 
same  as  when  Gil  Bias  of  Santillana,  wishing,  as  he 
said,  to  avoid  Scylla,  struck  upon  Charybdis,  and  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  robbers  of  the  Subterranean 
Cave ;  and  the  materials  of  which  the  robber-bands 
were  composed  at  the  time  of  our  observations  upon 
society  and  life  in  Andalusia,  were  not  essentially  dif 
ferent  from  that  notable  knot  of  highwaymen,  or 
ladrones,  among  which  it  was  the  fortune  of  Gil  Bias 
to  be  thrown :  assassins,  criminals  escaped  from  jus- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          183 

tice,  disgraced  officers,  runaway  soldiers,  mis-educated 
and  cast-off  sons  of  wealthy  families ;  sometimes  men 
unfortunate  in  business  or  love,  soured  and  misan 
thropic  from  failures  and  disappointments ;  now  and 
then  a  recreant  friar,  along  with  villains  who  had 
served  their  time  as  contrabandistas,  vagabond  paisa- 
nos,  and  loafers  of  the  city  and  village. 
The  rule  that 

He  may  keep  who  has  the  power, 
And  he  may  get  who  can, 

then  prevailed  to  such  a  degree,  that  travellers  and 
natives  were  naturally  under  black-mail  tribute  to  law 
less  hordes  of  banditti,  who  roamed  the  country  and 
spoiled  whom  they  pleased.  We  knew  of  a  man  in 
the  very  city  of  Malaga,  who,  acting  as  an  agent  of  the 
robbers,  would  give  to  travellers,  for  a  sum  of  money 
according  to  their  ability,  a  sort  of  paper-passport, 
that  would  ensure  them  safe  conduct  through  all  parts 
of  Andalusia.  If  robbers  appeared,  and  this  paper 
were  produced,  signed  by  the  well-known  name  or 
sign  of  their  city  confederate,  the  traveller  would  pass 
unmolested.  Even  for  the  Governor  himself,  it  was 
said  this  paper  would  be  as  good  a  safe-guard  as  a  file 
of  soldiers. 

It  will  be  at  once  seen  how  the  personal  narrative 
of  the  present  chapter  confirms  these  statements. 
Though  not  all  within  the  proper  field  of  biography, 
the  matter  of  it  is  in  part  of  such  thrilling  interest  to 
the  general  reader,  and  withal  so  strikingly  illustrative 
of  life  in  Spain,  and  of  the  mind  and  heart  of  the 


184  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

writer,  that  we  have  not  felt  at  liberty  to  exclude  it 
here.  The  Journal  begins,  and  is  dated  at  Alhaurin 
el  Grande,  June,  1837  : 

Having  some  time  since  received  a  kind  invitation  from  Mr. 
Loring  to  spend  a  few  days  at  his  country  house,  in  this  pleas 
ant  village,  I  left  Malaga  yesterday  afternoon,  at  two  o'clock, 
on  horseback,  accompanied  by  a  good-natured  muleteer,  who 
lives  rent  free,  in  a  little  house  adjoining  that  of  Mr.  Loring, 
which  latter  he  takes  care  of  when  the  family  are  absent,  carry 
ing  letters  and  packages  to  and  fro  between  this  and  Malaga. 
The  ride  for  the  first  part  of  the  way  was  through  a  dry  plain, 
destitute  of  trees,  and  without  anything  to  refresh  the  vision. 
There  is  so  little  rain  in  this  country,  (indeed,  I  may  say  al 
most  none,  except  in  the  fall  and  winter,)  that  the  land,  when 
it  is  not  artificially  irrigated,  has  during  the  summer  months  an 
arid  and  baked  appearance.  Once  in  a  while,  we  passed  a 
Cortejo,  or  farm  house,  built  of  stone  or  brick,  stuccoed,  or 
whitewashed  outside,  and  at  a  distance  looking  quite  neat,  but 
generally  naked  and  desolate,  being  a  single,  lone  building, 
without  any  trees  around  it,  or  any  signs  of  taste  in  its  in 
habitants. 

Within,  these  Spanish  farm-houses  generally  present  a  more 
rude  and  barbarous  appearance  than  without,  scarcely  more 
inviting  than  the  snug  barn  of  a  New  England  farmer.  In 
deed,  the  whole  estate  of  agricultural  affairs  in  the  two  countries 
is  right  opposite.  Here  the  proprietors  of  the  soil  are  gene 
rally  noblemen,  rich  men,  or  the  Church,  who  do  not  cultivate 
it  themselves,  but  let  it  out  to  the  peasantry  of  the  country. 
Unlike  the  sturdy,  independent  farmers  of  our  land,  who  own 
the  soil  they  till,  and  are  for  the  most  part  decently  intelligent, 
these  are  a  class  of  ignorant  boors, -seldom  knowing  either  how 
to  read  or  write  ;  the  limit  of  their  knowledge  being  to  cultivate 
the  land  as  their  fathers  did  before  them,  and  to  sell  its  pro 
ducts  for  the  best  price. 


OF   NATHANIEL    CIIEEVEK,    M.D.  185 

As  we  arrived  at  the  river  of  Malaga,  we  struck  off  to  the 
right,  and  crossed  it  farther  up,  leaving  the  village  of  Churianna 
on  the  left,  our  road  now  lying  further  inland,  towards  the 
mountains.  The  depth  of  water  in  the  river  was  only  about 
two  and  a  half  or  three  feet,  but  in  the  fall  and  winter  when 
it  has  been  raining  in  the  mountains,  it  comes  down  with  great 
violence ;  and  then,  as  it  would  be  impossible  to  ford  it,  they 
have  a  ferry-boat,  which  is  pulled  across  from  one  side  to  the 
other  by  a  rope.  A  mile  or  so  beyond  where  we  crossed,  is 
an  aqueduct,  reaching  to  the  edge  of  the  river,  and  having 
the  remains  of  some  piers  in  its  bed,  but  like  many  fine  public 
works  in  Spain,  here  left  unfinished.  It  is  already  carried 
several  miles  from  its  fountain  head,  built  of  good  solid  mason- 
work,  sometimes  raised  on  arches  to  the  height  of  fifteen  or 
twenty  feet,  and  at  others  on  a  level  with  the  ground,  varying 
in  height  according  to  the  nature  of  the  land  it  crosses,  having 
on  the  top  a  channel  for  the  water,  covered  with  bricks,  which, 
if  it  were  led  into  Malaga,  would  exempt  the  inhabitants  from 
that  painful  scarcity  of  water,  which  they  now  often  suffer  in 
the  dry  season. 

About  one  or  two  leagues  from  Alhaurin,  my  guide  pointed 
out  the  house,  where  Gen.  Torejos  and  Pinto,  the  brother  of 
Lopez  Pinto  formerly  Civil  Governor  of  Malaga,  were  surround 
ed  and  taken  prisoners  by  the  troops  of  Moreno,  then  governor 
of  Malaga  in  1831,  and  afterwards  with  about  forty-eight  others 
(including  Mr.  Boyd,  a  young  English  officer,  who  had  volun 
teered  in  their  cause),  were  publicly  shot  on  the  beach  at 
Malaga,  on  Sunday  the  llth  of  Dec.  of  the  same  year. 

It  was  during  the  despotism  of  Ferdinand  VII.  that  they 
wished  to  make  a  movement  in  favor  of  the  liberal  cause,  and 
devised  their  plans  for  the  purpose  at  Gibraltar.  This  becoming 
known  in  Malaga  to  the  bloody  despot,  Moreno,  who  ruled 
with  a  rod  of  iron,  he  wrote  false  letters  to  the  patriots  at  Gib 
raltar,  pretending  they  would  be  well  received,  and  inviting 
them  to  come  to  Malaga.  Having  thus  succeeded  in  deceiving 


186  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

and  decoying  them  into  his  clutches,  he  had  them  all  shot  in 
cold  blood.  He  is  now  one  of  Don  Carlos'  principal  chiefs, 
and  his  memory  is  most  heartily  execrated  by  every  soul  in 
Malaga. 

When  he  was  governor  of  the  city,  I  have  been  told  that 
every  person  that  had  a  bible,  was  obliged  to  go  and  deliver  it 
at  the  bishop's  palace ;  and  the  spiritual  despotism  of  the 
church  was  in  full  play.  At  that  time  when  the  hour  for 
evening  prayer  arrived,  and  the  bell  of  the  Cathedral  struck  to 
announce  it,  wherever  a  man  might  be,  or  whatever  his  situ 
ation  in  the  house,  or  in  the  street,  he  was  obliged  to  take  off 
his  hat  immediately,  and  kneel  down,  at  the  risk  of  having  it 
knocked  off  by  a  blow  from  some  soldier  or  bystander. 

For  about  a  league  before  we  arrived  at  Alhaurin,  the 
scenery  was  made  up  of  beautiful  vineyards,  orange,  lemon, 
and  olive  groves,  fig-trees  and  pomegranates,  and  fine  green 
vegetable  gardens,  or  Huertas,  refreshing  the  eye  in  every 
direction,  with  their  bright  rich  verdure.  About  a  quarter 
before  eight,  I  arrived  safe,  with  my  guide,  at  Mr.  Loring's 
house,  and  was  very  cordially  received  by  its  inmates  with 
Americo-Spanish  hospitality.  The  place  is  charmingly  situat 
ed  on  the  declivity  of  a  hill,  just  at  the  foot  of  the  Sierra  of 
Mijus,  overlooking  an  extensive  undulating  plain,  bounded  in 
almost  all  directions  by  lofty  mountains.  The  soil  is  very  rich, 
and  being  irrigated  by  an  abundance  of  water,  from  a  number 
of  never-failing  springs,  it  produces  bountifully. 

The  Huertas,  as  they  are  called,  or  as  we  should  term 
them,  vegetable  and  fruit  gardens  are  very  fine,  yielding  a  great 
abundance  of  everything  marketable.  Oranges,  lemons,  apri 
cots,  cherries,  plums,  pears,  apples  and  peaches,  olives,  grapes, 
quinces,  and  pomegranates,  all  abound  in  this  fruitful  region. 
Grains  and  a  variety  of  vegetables  also  grow  here,  vast  in  quantity 
and  of  excellent  quality.  Various  kinds  of  beans — the  Garaban- 
ros  or  large  Spanish  bean — the  Altramuas,  or  Lupines,  which 
are  hawked  about  the  streets,  soaked  in  salted  water  ;  Spanish 


M.D.  187 

artichokes,  cauliflowers,  cabbage,  onions,  garlic,  beets,  carrots, 
tomatoes,  green  peppers,  various  kinds  of  stuff  for  salad,  cu 
cumbers,  corn,  wheat,  barley,  oats,  and  other  cereals  which 
the  earth  here  yields  bountifully. 

From  this  and  the  neighboring  town  of  Coin,  the  mar 
kets  of  Malaga  receive  their  supplies.  This  compact  lit 
tle  village  is  estimated  to  contain  six  thousand  souls  ;  the 
manner  of  building  being  such  that  a  village  very  small  in 
extent,  may  contain  a  large  number  of  inhabitants.  The 
houses,  instead  of  being  interspersed  like  those  of  a  New  Eng 
land  village,  with  pleasant  little  grass  plats  and  gardens,  are 
built  like  those  of  a  city,  in  solid  blocks  on  each  side  of  the 
street,  generally  of  one  story,  composed  of  bricks,  or  stone 
and  mortar,  plastered  and  whitewashed  outside,  presenting  one 
uniform  surface  throughout  the  town. 

Alhaurin,  Sabbath  Day. — While  dear  Mother  and  E.  are  en 
joying,  as  I  hope,  the  precious  privileges  of  the  sanctuary, 
Henry  at  New  Orleans,  and  George,  I  suppose,  in  London, 
I  am  here  under  the  roof  of  my  countryman,  Mr.  Loring,  in 
a  quiet  little  Spanish  town,  far  retired  from  the  noise  and  bus 
tle  of  the  world,  in  a  calm  retreat,  with  which  prayer  and 
praise  may  well  accord  : 

"  This  calm  retreat,  this  quiet  shade, 
With  prayer  and  praise  agree, 
And  seems  by  thy  sweet  bounty  made, 
For  those  who  worship  thee." 

These  beautiful  lines  I  may  with  much  propriety  apply  to 
my  situation  to  day.  I  look  abroad  from  my  window  upon  the 
face  of  nature,  the  distant  mountains  bounding  the  horizon, 
and  the  hills  and  valleys  around  covered  with  green  trees,  and 
waving  crops ;  all  is  quiet  and  serene,  but  few  sounds  are 
heard  from  the  village  to  disturb  the  universal  repose,  every 
thing  seems  to  invite  to  calm  meditation  and  prayer  ;  and  oh, 
may  not  the  opportunity  be  lost  upon  me  !  I  long  to  enjoy  a 


188  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE  LTFK 

really  Christian  Sabbath  ;  to  be  among  those  who  keep  holy 
time,  and  to  go  up  with  them  to  the  house  of  God  in  company. 
How  many  happy  Sabbaths,  and  I  hope  in  some  measure 
spiritually  profitable  ones,  have  I  passed  under  my  native  roof 
with  my  dear  Mother  and  Sister,  who  now  occupy  it !  May 
God  in  his  loving  kindness,  grant  that  I  may  pass,  yet,  many 
more  in  their  beloved  society  with  the  added  blessing  of  perfect 
health. 

Wednesday^  21s£,  Alhaurin. — A  scene  altogether  in  keeping 
with  the  state  of  things  in  this  country,  and  illustrative  of  a 
life  in  Spain,  took  place  in  this  very  house  the  night  before 
last.  About  half-past  eight  in  the  evening  a  man  came  to  the 
door  to  announce  that  some  men,  whose  character  he  well 
knew,  wished  to  see  Mr.  Loring,  el  Amo  de  Casa,  and  as  they 
had  no  place  to  leave  their  arms,  they  would  have  to  bring 
them  upon  their  persons.  We  were  just  at  tea,  but  a  ham  was 
put  on  the  table  with  wine,  &c.,  to  give^them  a  hospitable  re 
ception,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Loring  were  with  them  at  table,  as 
it  is  necessary  to  receive  them  in  a  free  and  unembarrassed 
manner.  They  all  came  armed  with  carbines  and  pistols,  and 
knives  in  their  belts,  making  a  formidable  appearance,  and  with 
their  peaked  hats  and  dark  swarthy  faces,  their  tout  ensemble 
was  not  a  bad  sample  of  Spanish  Brigands. 

But  who  are  they  ?  The  facts  in  the  case  are  the  following  : 
These  men  were  formerly  guards  on  the  road  between  this 
village  and  Malaga,  obtaining  their  subsistence  by  the  contri 
butions  received  from  the  muleteers,  and  others,  which  is  a  few 
quartos  for  every  one  that  passes.  For  some  reason  or  other 
they  were  dismissed  by  government  from  this  employment,  and 
have  since  been  leading  the  life  of  free-booters,  living  upon 
robbery,  or  the  black  mail  paid  to  them  to  be  freed  from  their 
attacks.  They  are  indeed  now  the  keepers  of  the  road,  for  if 
they  choose  to  molest  passengers,  the  other  guards  placed  by 
government  would  be  of  but  little  avail. 

Two  of  them  are  brothers,  called  the  Naranjos  ;  they  are 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          189 

well  known  in  the  village,  and  come  in  and  out  quite  freely,  as 
the  authorities  here  are  making  no  efforts  to  take  them.  Mr. 
Loring  had  previously  had  an  intimation  that  they  wished  to 
see,  and  obtain  assistance  from  him  ;  for  they  genteelly  cover 
their  demands  in  this  way,  under  the  guise  of  lending,  though 
we  may  be  quite  sure  they  will  not  trouble  themselves  to 
return  this  kind  of  loans.  He  represented  to  them  that  as 
the  times  were  not  favorable,  they  must  be  content  with 
less  than  they  asked,  but  if  not  he  must  pay  them  all ; 
they  took,  however,  what  he  offered,  the  ^amount  I  do  not 
know. 

The  whole  of  this  affair  is  so  astonishing,  and  almost  in 
credible,  that  even  one  on  the  spot  can  hardly  realize  it,  and 
to  those  who  are  distant,  the  inhabitants  of  countries  advanced 
in  civilization,  and  not  kept  in  awe  by  robbers,  as  the  interior 
of  this  country  may  with  truth  be  said  to  be,  this  state  of 
things  would  hardly  gain  belief.  That  armed  banditti  should 
come  into  a  peaceful  village  of  six  thousand  inhabitants,  enter 
the  house  of  a  gentleman  there  residing,  partake  of  his  forced 
hospitality,  levy  upon  him  their  contributions,  and  then 
depart  with  their  booty  to  their  strongholds,  or  temporary 
abiding  places,  unmolested,  would  be  esteemed  a  tough  story, 
even  for  marines. 

Mr.  Dillon,  an  Irish  gentleman,  who  lives  opposite  Mr. 
Loring's  house,  knew  that  these  robber  gentry  had  come  to 
pay  him  a  visit,  and  preparing  himself  in  case  anything  should 
happen,  to  act  with  energy,  ordered  his  servant  to  load,  with 
two  balls  each,  both  his  guns,  and  thus  made  ready,  they 
watched  in  the  house  to  see  what  might  take  place,  but  found 
no  occasion  to  use  their  weapons,  although  he  was  not  far 
out  of  the  way  in  saying  that  a  bullet  through  the  heart  of 
each  of  these  villains  would  be  no  more  than  they  richly  de 
serve.  They  went  away  quietly  about  eleven  o'clock,  in  very 
good  humour  with  the  liberal  treatment  of  their  host,  Mr. 
Loring.  I  was  not  in  the  room  during  their  stay,  but  saw 


190  MEMORIALS  OF  THE  LIFE 

them  through  the  open  door,  as  they  sat  at  table  in  the  dining- 
room,  and  also  when  they  went  out  of  the  house. 

The  hands  of  these  very  men  are  stained  with  the  guilt  of 
many  a  murdered  wretch,  whose  blood  cries  out  against  them 
from  the  ground.  It  is  only  about  two  months  since,  that 
this  same  gang  that  are  now  levying  their  contributions  on 
Alhaurin  and  its  vicinity,  took  away  from  his  house,  and  car 
ried  with  them  to  their  haunts,  a  rich  farmer  of  Coin,  demand 
ing  for  his  ransom  $3,000,  §2,500  of  which  was  at  length 
paid,  and  he  released. 

Tt  is  also  but  a  few  weeks  since,  that  they  went  into 
Churianna,  took  out  the  Captain  of  Police  into  the  Plaza, 
and  began  to  bring  him  to  account  for  having  said,  as 
they  alleged  he  had  done,  that  they  were  thieves  and  robbers. 
He  tried  to  excuse  himself,  and  escape  their  vengeance,  but  all 
his  entreaties  were  of  no  avail.  They  told  him  to  kneel  down 
and  say  his  creed,  for  that  he  had  but  a  few  moments  to 
live.  In  the  mean  time,  the  Alcalde  had  come  to  the  Plaza, 
begging  them  to  desist  from  their  bloody  intentions,  but  they 
heeded  him  not,  threatening  to  shoot  him  also  if  he  did  not 
hold  his  peace.  They  accordingly  drew  off  from  their  victim, 
the  Captain  of  Police,  fired  a  volley  of  balls  into  his  body,  and 
departed  from  the  village  leaving  him  weltering  in  his  blood. 

Having  heard  about  the  same  time  of  the  intention  of  the 
Commander  of  the  Nacionales  and  another  man  to  take  them 
prisoners,  a  Commission  from  Government  having  been  re 
ceived  to  that  effect,  they  waylaid  them  one  day  as  they  were 
passing  on  horseback,  shot  one  dead  in  the  breast,  and  wounded 
the  other  in  the  arm,  breaking  the  bone.  This  last  putting 
spurs  to  his  horse,  fled  with  all  speed,  and  escaped  with  his 
life.  They  had  previously  shot  at,  and  seriously  wounded  the 
schoolmaster  of  the  village,  mistaking  him  for  their  enemy,  the 
officer.  Thus  were  two  public  officers  killed,  and  one  badly 
wounded,  by  these  assassins,  and  all  within  six  miles  of  Malaga, 
and  even  in  sight  of  the  city.  This  gang  have  their  spies  or 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.         191 

informants  in  the  cities  and  villages,  and  know  beforehand 
whenever  an  attempt  to  take  them  is  to  be  made,  and  devise 
their  measures  accordingly,  so  as  to  baffle  the  pursuit. 

There  is,  no  doubt,  a  great  deal  of  connivance  and  crimi 
nal  compromising  with  them  by  many  of  the  authorities,  and 
indeed  there  is  much  corruption  and  bigotry.  The  execution 
of  the  law  is  so  slack,  and  very  often  not  enforced  at  all,  that 
some  well-disposed  magistrates,  who,  perhaps,  might  have  it  in 
their  power  to  take  them  prisoners,  are  deterred  from  the 
fear  that  when  brought  to  trial,  having  bribed  well  the  escri- 
banos,  they  will  again  be  let  loose,  and  wreak  their  vengeance 
on  the  heads  of  those  who  were  the  means  of  their  temporary 
imprisonment.  The  decision  of  law  cases  lies  in  this  country 
almost  entirely  with  the  escribanos,  who  are  a  very  corrupt 
and  venal  class  of  men.  When  they  are  well  bribed,  they 
will  make  almost  any  case  go  in  favor  of  their  client ;  so 
that  money  is  the  grand  requisite  in  a  law-suit,  let  the  right 
or  the  wrong  of  the  case  be  as  it  may. 

The  robbers  are,  in  fact,  sometimes  in  league  with  the 
escribanos,  as  the  following  anecdote,  among  many  others 
that  might  be  adduced,  proves  and  illustrates  :  Mr.  Rixon, 
a  respectable  English  merchant  in  Malaga,  told  me,  a  few 
weeks  since,  that  some  noted  robbers  in  the  vicinity  (I  pre 
sume  this  same  gang),  made  an  appointment  for  an  interview 
with  a  couple  of  escribanos,  at  the  distance  of  six  or  eight 
miles  from  Malaga,  in  which  they  used  language  to  them 
equivalent  to  the  following  :  "  Rob  on  ;  why  don't  you  rob  ? 
Do  your  business,  we'll  do  ours — we'll  protect  you ;  you  shall 
not  be  punished."  This  the  driver  of  the  calesa  in  which  they 
went,  told  Mr.  Rixon,  having  himself  heard  the  conversation  ; 
and  in  many  respects  it  shows  but  too  well  the  state  of  society 
in  this  unhappy  country. 

A  few  days  since,  a  celebrated  villain,  called  Polaca,  was 
shot  near  Coin,  as  he  was  passing  the  road  with  a  load  of 
tobacco  He  fell  into  the  highway,  having  received  two  balls 


192  MEMORIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

directly  through  his  breast ;  and  though  he  had  money  about 
him,  and  his  jacket  was  ornamented  with  silver  buttons,  yet 
nothing  was  touched,  neither  also  his  horse,  which  was  left  to 
wander  at  his  own  will.  It  is  thought  he  was  shot  by  one  of 
his  own  companions,  who  wished  for  nothing  more  than  to 
glut  his  own  private  vengeance  by  taking  away  his  life. 
Though  not  exempt  from  the  guilt  of  murder,  he  has,  who 
ever  he  may  be,  rid  the  earth  of  a  wretch  who  long  ago  de 
served  death,  and  himself  has  now  to  answer  for  the  blood  of 
many  a  murdered  victim. 

Several  years  since,  Mr.  Loring  resided  a  little  time  with 
a  son  of  his,  at  the  village  of  Colmenar,  on  the  road  to 
Granada,  for  the  benefit  of  the  country  air  ;  and  this  very  man 
was  the  guard  of  the  farm-house  and  vineyard  where  he  staid. 
He  was  at  that  time  but  eighteen  years  old  ;  yet,  even  then 
he  had,  in  several  instances,  taken  away  life.  His  violent  doings 
have  now  come  down  upon  his  own  head.  u  He  that  seeketh 
mischief,  mischief  shall  come  upon  him." 

Yesterday,  having  for  my  guide  the  good-natured  muleteer 
Immanuel,  who  came  with  me  from  Malaga,  I  took  a  pleasant 
trip  on  horseback  to  Coin  and  Monda.  With  my  stomach 
fortified  by  a  cup  of  tea,  a  bit  of  cold  ham,  an  egg,  and 
bread,  I  sallied  forth  on  my  gay  little  charger,  and  my  trusty 
guide  on  his  borrico,  about  half  past  six  A.  M.  The  old 
Moorish  tower  being  now  directly  on  our  way,  I  dismounted, 
and  went  up  to  the  top  of  it.  The  first  flight  of  stairs,  which 
is  outside,  leads  into  a  vaulted  chamber  that  supports  the 
tower  above.  From  this  was  formerly  the  entrance  to  the 
dungeon  or  calaboso,  where  were  deposited  prisoners  or  crimi 
nals,  being  an  opening  in  the  centre  of  the  floor  of  about 
three  or  four  feet  in  diameter,  and  having,  as  the  farmer  of 
the  cortejo  told  me,  a  depth  of  six  yards.  The  pit  is  now 
floored  over  with  bricks.  At  one  corner,  on  the  top  of  the 
tower,  is  a  bell,  having  on  it  the  date  of  1789,  which  the  man 
said  had  been  used  formerly  to  call  the  neighbors  to  mass. 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEE,  M.D.          193 

A  farmhouse  adjoins  the  tower,  through  the  miserable 
room  of  which  I  passed  on  my  way  to  the  top.  The  dirt  and 
squalidness  of  a  Spanish  cortejo  form  a  striking  contrast  to 
the  neat  apartments,  and  well-burnished  dressers,  of  a  New 
England  farmhouse ;  and  their  respective  appearance  is  a 
very  good  commentary  on  the  different  habits  of  the  people. 
Coin  is  a  much  larger  place  than  Alhaurin,  being  the  capital 
of  the  three  Pueblos — Alhaurin,  Monda,  and  Cartama,  and 
contains  about  eight  thousand  inhabitants.  It  is  situated  at 
the  foot  of  a  Sierra,  in  an  uneven  valley,  on  the  side  of  a 
hill,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  beautiful  huertas,  fine  orchards 
of  fruit  trees,  and  waving  fields  of  grain.  The  road  just  be 
fore  you  enter  the  town  descends  into  a  deep  passage,  on 
either  side  of  which  rises  a  steep  cliff  of  twenty  or  thirty  feet 
in  height,  overhung  with  green  trees  and  shrubbery,  and  leav 
ing  just  room  for  the  road.  After  riding  in  the  hot  sun,  it 
was  like  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land,  to  pass 
suddenly  into  this  cool,  shady  retreat,  impenetrably  shielded 
from  its  rays,  from  whence,  in  a  few  moments,  we  again 
emerged  into  the  streets  of  the  town. 

Immanuel  having  put  our  beasts,  by  permission  of  the 
occupants  of  a  little  house,  into  a  stable,  or  place  answering 
for  it  in  the  rear,  we  took  a  walk  round  the  town.  It  has  a 
pretty  little  Alameda,  apparently  new,  planted  with  gera 
niums,  rose  bushes,  and  set  out  with  black  poplars — a 
row  on  each  side,  and  a  weeping-willow  at  each  end,  with 
marble  seats  at  proper  intervals,  and  at  one  end  a  fountain. 
The  churches  were  all  shut,  but  one  of  them  presented  a  very 
decent  appearance  outside.  There  are  also  several  convents, 
but  none  of  them  at  present  occupied  by  friars.  According 
to  the  prevailing  custom,  the  principal  haunt  of  the  place  is 
called  the  Plaza  de  la  Constitucion.  Thus  Alhaurin,  Coin, 
Monda,  Churianna,  and  Torre  Molinos,  each  have  their  Plaza 
de  la  Constitucion,  which,  under  the  former  despotism,  would 
have  been  called  Plaza  Real,  which  "was  the  name  of  the  prin- 
9 


194:  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

cipal  public  square  in  Malaga,  previous  to  the  Revolution  of 
the  Liberals  in  August,  1835,  when  it  was  changed  to  Plaza 
de  la  Constitucion. 

Our  rustic  meal  being  despatched  with  the  keen  relish 
given  by  horseback  exercise,  we  ascended  a  high  hill  back  of 
the  village,  on  which  are  the  remains  of  an  ancient  Roman 
fortress.  In  its  own  day  it  must  have  been  a  very  strong 
castle.  The  top  of  the  hill  is  precipitous,  in  some  places 
perpendicular,  and  the  summit  seems  to  have  once  been  sur 
rounded  with  a  strong  wall,  buttressed  with  several  towers,  of 
which  there  are  parts  still  remaining.  The  mortar  with 
which  they  were  built,  has  become  almost  as  hard  as  the 
stone  itself.  It  would  seem  as*  if  the  ancients  in  those  cen 
turies  had  an  art  of  mixing  mortar  which  is  unknown  now  ; 
for  time,  instead  of  crumbling  it,  seems  only  to  make  it  grow 
more  hard.  The  fort  is  in  a  very  commanding  position,  situ 
ated  exactly  at  the  head  of  the  valley,  guarding  the  entrance 
to  the  mountains ;  but  now  that  gunpowder  is  invented,  it 
could  be  battered  from  the  neighboring  heights. 

This  little  village  has  been  made  famous  by  the  battle  which 
historians  and  geographers  say  was  fought  near  it,  between 
Csesar  and  the  sons  of  Pompey.  It  was  then  called  Munda,  which 
has  been  changed  in  the  lapse  of  time  to  Monda.  In  the 
period  of  the  Roman  domination  in  Spain,  it  must  have  been 
a  place  of  considerable  importance,  as  several  Latin  inscrip 
tions  and  medals  which  have  been  discovered,  as  well  as  the 
remains  of  its  strong  fortifications,  tend  to  show.  The  village 
is  now  a  small,  compact,  little  pueblo,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill 
on  which  stand  the  ruins  of  the  castle,  containing  about  five 
hundred  souls. 

How  many  important  events,  big  with  the  fate  of  empires, 
have  transpired  in  the  world  since  the  erection  of  the  ruined 
fortress  that  now  overlooks  this  little  place  !  And  in  particular, 
what  scenes  of  bloody  warfare — of  rapine  and  revolution — the 
invasion  of  foreign  armies — the  anarchy  of  civil  strife,  has  this 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVEE,   M.D.  195 

wretched  land  been  the  theatre  of !  In  different  centuries  before 
and  since  that  time,  the  Carthaginians,  the  Romans,  the  Groths, 
the  Moors,  and  the  Christians,  have,  in  succession,  been  the  lords 
of  its  soil ;  and  besides  the  severe  and  long-protracted  strug 
gles  between  these  different  warlike  people  in  conquering  each 
other,  during  which  the  earth  was  fattened  with  the  blood  of 
the  slain,  it  has  drunk  in  the  life-current  of  millions  killed  in 
the  civil  dissensions  of  those  respective  nations.  What  a 
commentary  does  it  present  on  the  raging  passions — the  un 
governable  lust  for  power — the  unmitigated  wickedness  that 
reside  in  the  breast  of  the  unsanctified  man  ! 

Thursday ',  June  22nd. — Yesterday  afternoon,  with  Mr. 
Loring  and  Mr.  Dillon,  an  Irish  gentleman,  I  had  a  pleasant 
ride  to  an  estate  in  the  vicinity,  belonging  to  the  latter,  called 
Quinlin. 

It  was  only  a  few  nights  since  that  the  same  men  who  paid 
their  respects  to  Mr.  Loring,  came  to  this  place  with  their 
horses,  and  slept  for  the  night.  A  farmer  in  the  vicinity 
was  expecting  the  return  of  his  nephew  or  grand 
son.  One  of  this  gang,  therefore,  being  made  acquainted 
with  the  fact,  disguised  himself  as  the  nephew,  came  on  his 
horse,  and  knocked  at  the  door,  which  was  unsuspectingly 
opened,  supposing  it  to  be  their  returning  relative,  when  lo ! 
in  rode  the  robber  with  his  confederates  at  his  heels,  and 
quartered  himself  and  horse  on  the  astonished  family !  He 
made  them  keep  the  horse  for  a  week,  and  when  he  took  him 
away,  levied  on  the  farmer  a  black-mail  of  ten  dollars  be 
sides. 

They  also,  about  a  week  since,  sent  to  a  priest,  the  cura 
of  this  village,  to  request  the^  loan  of  a  fine  mare  they  knew 
him  to  have ;  and  as  there  was  no  alternative  but  their  ven 
geance,  he  made  a  virtue  of  necessity,  and  sent  the  animal, 
granting  them  a  loan,  of  which  he  may  be  quite  sure  neither 
principal  nor  interest  will  ever  bo  paid.  Thus  it  is  that  these 
abominable  outrages  are  daily  perpetrated  ;  and  the  Govern- 


196  MEMORIALS   OF   THE    LIFE 

ment,  which  might  check  and  punish  them  with  comparative 
ease,  if  energy  were  used,  allow  them  to  be  committed  with 
impunity. 

This  afternoon  I  expect  to  return  to  the  city.  I  shall  have 
reason  to  remember  this  little  sojourn  under  the  country  roof 
of  my  kind  host  and  hostess,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Loving,  with 
many  pleasant  recollections,  muchas  memorias,  both  of  their 
attentions  and  my  own  personal  enjoyment. 

Malaga. — I  am  now  again  amidst  the  sights  and  sounds 
of  the  city,  but  I  could  have  relished  yet  longer  the  retire 
ment  enjoyed  the  last  few  days ;  and  I  find  it  has  been  of 
great  advantage  to  my  heallh.  As  Cowper  beautifully  says  : 

'Tis  pleasant  through  the  loop-holes  of  retreat 
To  peep  at  such  a  world — to  see  the  stir 
Of  the  great  Babel,  and  not  feel  the  crowd ; 
To  hear  the  roar  she  sends  through  all  her  gates 
At  a  safe  distance,  when  the  dying  sound 
Falls  a  soft  murmur  on  the  uninjured  ear. 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVERj  M.D.          197 


CHAP  TEE    IX. 

THE    INTKIGTJE,    THE     ASSASSINATION,    AND     THE   PUNISH 
MENT. 

WE  insert  here,  as  properly  constituting  a  chapter 
of  this  work,  a  paper  written  out  at  a  later  date  for  the 
OPAL,  the  materials  of  which  were  supplied  by  per 
sonal  observation  and  knowledge  at  the  time.  It  is 
entitled, 

EVEN-HANDED      JUSTICE      IN      SPAIN A     MILITARY     EXECUTION. 

FROM     NOTES     AND      OBSERVANCES      ON     THE     SPOT.        BY     N. 
CHEEVER,    M.D. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  the  city  of  Malaga,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Guadal-Medina,  the  traveller  may  observe,  among 
other  pleasant  habitations,  a  beautiful  hacienda,  or  country 
seat,  which  attracts  a  melancholy  notice  when  some  of  the 
associations  connected  with  it  are  revealed.  Amid  the  orange 
groves  and  olive  orchards  of  that  lovely  climate,  many  a 
place  has  its  story  of  intrigue  and  murder,  which  the  beauty 
of  the  region  would  belie.  This  romantic  spot  was  the  dwell 
ing  of  a  young  lawyer,  amiable  in  his  deportment,  affable  in 
society,  and  enjoying  a  reputation  superior  to  all  suspicion 
of  crime.  I  shall  not  describe  his  whole  name,  because  the 
transactions  to  which  I  refer  are  yet  comparatively  recent ; 


198  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

and  it  is  enough  for  my  purpose  to  designate  him  as  Don 
Juan.  On  a  bright  and  glorious  day  while  I  was  in  Malaga, 
I  saw  him  publicly  shot,  in  the  presence  of  ten  thousand 
spectators,  in  an  open  space  on  the  banks  of  the  Gruadal- 
Medina,  on  the  city  side,  where  the  eye  could  rest  directly  on 
his  beautiful  residence  in  full  view  beyond. 

One  of  Don  Juan's  acquaintance  and  friends  in  the  city, 
was  the  husband  of  a  lovely  wife,  possessed  of  some  property 
in  her  own  right.  Between  this  woman  and  Don  Juan  there 
was  an  intimacy  which,  but  for  the  dreadful  tragedy  I  am 
going  to  relate,  might  never  have  worn  the  appearance  of 
guilt,  but  only  of  friendship.  Her  husband,  Don  Jose,  was 
of  a  frank,  unsuspicious,  open-hearted  nature  ;  and  both  were 
young.  Whether  the  guilt  of  the  crime  resting  on  her  and 
Don  Juan,  were  greater  on  her  side  or  his,  it  is  difficult  to 
say,  or  who  was  the  tempter  to  the  deed  of  blood  which  re 
sulted  in  her  misery  and  his  destruction. 

In  a  small  village  called  Priego,  a  few  leagues  from  Malaga, 
there  lived  a  man  named  Jose  de  la  Rosa,  by  profession  a 
common  day  laborer,  married,  and  the  father  of  six  children. 
He  had,  as  the  Spaniards  say,  ten  murders  on  his  soul — 
"  tenia  diez  muertes" — being  one  of  those  mercenary  assas 
sins  whose  most  profitable  trade,  in  such  a  country  as  Spain, 
is  blood,  and  in  whom  undiscovered  crime  had  effectually 
seared  his  conscience.  As  he  appeared  at  the  execution  in 
the  square  in  Malaga,  he  was  of  an  elevated  stature,  regular 
features,  and  strongly  knit,  powerful  frame,  denoting  immense 
vigor  and  physical  strength.  His  face  was  of  citron  color, 
his  eyes  black,  large,  and  very  wide  apart,  and  the  whole  ex 
pression  of  his  countenance  dark  and  fearful  in  the  highest 
degree.  If  you  had  met  him  of  an  evening  in  the  narrow 
streets  of  Malaga,  you  would  have  felt  anxious  till  you  found 
yourself  in  safety  at  your  own  door. 

This  man  might  have  been  seen  one  night  in  the  beautiful 
month  of  October,  when  the  grape-harvest  had  closed,  step- 


OF    NATHANIEL    CIIEEVEE,    M.D.  199 

ping  out  from  Don  Juan's  residence,  muffled  in  a  rough 
Spanish  capa,  and  making  his  way  from  the  river  toward  the 
mountains.  The  price  at  which  Don  Juan  had  secured  his 
services  was  never  known  ;  but  he  had  promised  him  perfect 
security,  and  a  personal  participation  in  the  crime,  by  his 
own  presence,  to  make  all  sure  when  he  should  meet  his  vic 
tim.  The  arrangement  was  completed  ;  and  on  a  certain 
night,  when  Don  Juan  knew  the  intended  movements  of  his 
friend,  the  murderer  was  to  meet  him  across  the  bridge  in  the 
city,  and  to  be  guided  by  him  till,  in  sight  of  his  object,  he 
might  post  himself  without  mistake,  for  the  assassination. 

It  was  half-past  eleven  on  the  night  of  the  30th,  as  Don 
Jose,  accompanied  by  a  watchman,  was  returning  unsuspect 
ingly  to  his  home  in  the  city  from  an  evening  visit  at  the  house 
of  a  friend.  They  had  arrived  at  the  entrance  to  one  of  the 
dark  and  narrow  streets  with  which  Malaga  abounds.  Here 
Don  Juan  and  La  Hosa  had  posted  themselves,  expecting  to 
meet  Don  Jose,  and  awaiting  his  coining.  At  the  farther 
corner  of  the  street  they  had  been  stopped,  and  as  Don  Juan 
saw  his  victim  advancing  with  the  watchman,  he  hastily  said  to 
La  Rosa,  "  Ahi  viene  !  ahi  viene  !"  There  he  comes !  there  he 
comes  !  and  then  fled  swiftly  to  his  own  house,  not  remaining 
to  see  the  end  of  the  murder,  but  as  quick  as  possible  placing 
himself  quietly  in  bed.  Before  the  night  finished  he  was 
taken  thence  by  armed  soldiers,  for  his  execution  ! 

Don  Jose  and  the  watchman,  continuing  their  way  up  the 
street,  were  met  suddenly  by  a  tall  athletic  man  in  the  com 
mon  garb  of  a  paisano  or  rustic,  muffled  in  a  cloak.  As  he 
came  up  with  Don  Jose,  neither  he  nor  the  watchman  being  in 
the  least  on  their  guard,  the  murderer  drew  forth  a  savage 
knife  concealed  beneath  his  capa,  and  plunged  it  with  such 
tremendous  violence  into  the  breast  of  the  unfortunate  young 
man,  as  to  make  a  wound  six  and  a  half  inches  deep,  com 
pletely  dividing  the  heart.  The  blood  of  the  poor  victim,  im 
pelled  by  the  spasmodic  contractions  of  the  heart,  spouted  into 


200  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

the  air,  and  sprinkled  to  a  considerable  height  the  walls  of  the 
street.  Thousands  of  horror  stricken  spectators  were  gathered 
the  next  morning  to  gaze  upon  the  stains.  On  receiving  the 
dreadful  stab,  the  murdered  man  breathed  forth  one  sad  cry, 
the  gurgling  rather  of  his  death-agony,  and  fell  lifeless. 

La  Rosa  having  finished  the  murder,  instantly  took  to  flight. 
He  might  have  killed  the  watchman,  had  he  chosen,  and  then 
robbed  his  victim,  who  had  upon  his  person  a  watch  and  chain 
of  much  value  ;  and  the  fact  that  no  attempt  of  this  kind  was 
made,  indicated,  by  itself,  a  concealed  interest  and  agent  in 
the"  murder.  The  watchman,  though  thrown  for  a  moment 
from  his  guard,  by  the  horrible  catastrophe  which  passed  be 
fore  him  with  such  electric  rapidity,  at  once  gave  chase  to  the 
murderer,  who,  in  making  his  escape,  intended  to  take  a  street 
close  at  hand,  by  which  he  might  easily  have  effected  it.  This 
was  the  Calle  de  las  siete  rer-iteltas,  the  Street  of  the  Seven 
Turns,  a  literal  definition  of  its  geography,  so  that  it  would 
have  been  exceedingly  favorable  for  La  Rosa's  purpose  ;  but, 
being  hotly  pursued  by  the  watchman,  he  missed  his  aim,  and 
rushed  down  a  Calle  juela  sin  salida,  a  narrow  lane  without  an 
outlet,  and  a  very  short  one  too,  at  the  end  of  which  he  was 
brought  to  a  dead  halt  by  the  huge  impenetrable  walls  of  high 
buildings  on  the  three  sides  of  him,  leaving  no  possible  way  of  re 
treat  but  that  by  which  he  had  entered.  Here  he  was  brought  to 
bay,  like  a  raging  bull ;  and  being  knocked  down  and  slightly 
wounded  by  the  lance  of  the  watchman  or  Sereno,  he  was, 
with  other  assistance,  at  length  secured,  and  carried  immedi 
ately  before  the  Captain-general. 

I  have  mentioned  the  Spanish  appellation  of  the  watchman, 
Sereno  ;  it  is  interesting  to  state  that  the  Serenos,  or  watch 
men  in  the  South  of  Spain,  probably  have  taken  their  name 
from  the  loveliness  of  the  climate.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the 
term  came  to  be  applied  to  them  from  the  fact  that  in  crying 
the  hour  and  the  state  of  the  weather,  as  they  do,  the  climate 
is  so  delightfully  mild  and  agreeable  that  they  can  generally 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          201 

say  Sereno,  fair,  serene.  The  sound  of  their  fine  melodious 
voices,  heard  in  the  deep  stillness  of  midnight,  ringing  through 
the  clear  crystal  atmosphere  of  Andalusia,  has  an  indescrib 
ably  serene,  romantic  and  thrilling  effect. 

Ave  Maria  purissima ! 
Las  doce-e  y  media-a, 
Y  sereno-o ! 

They  cry  the  hour,  with  a  prolonged  and  musical  repetition 
of  the  syllables,  preceded  by  the  name  of  the  Holy  Virgin,  and 
almost  always  you  hear  the  S.ereno-o  at  the  close,  to  tell  the 
sleepers  how  quite  and  beautiful  are  the  heavens  above  them. 
Too  frequently,  beneath  all  this  quiet  and  beauty,  deeds  of 
violence  and  blood  are  transacted,  fitter  for  the  murky  atmo 
sphere  of  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death. 

At  the  time  of  the  event  I  am  relating,  the  city  of  Malaga, 
on  account  of  the  disturbed  state  of  the  country,  had  been 
put  under  martial  law.  This  is  the  reason  why  justice,  in 
most  cases  so  dilatory,  was  in  this  case  inflicted  with  such  ra 
pid  and  terrible  severity.  The  war  with  Don  Carlos  had  not 
yet  been  concluded,  and  the  Captain-general  of  the  kingdom  of 
Granada,  who  usually  lives  at  that  city,  was  residing  at  Malaga. 
These  circumstances  gave  me  an  opportunity  to  see  some 
phases  of  Spanish  life,  which  I  could  not  otherwise  have 
witnessed,  and  also,  as  my  readers  will  find,  brought  before  me 
in  detail  the  course  of  a  capital  trial  before  a  military  tribunal. 
The  Captain-general  took  it  all  into  his  own  hands,  and  pro 
ceeded  with  an  unrelenting  energy,  rapidity,  and  sternness, 
completely  overwhelming. 

It  was  about  midnight  when  the  watchmen  hurried  their 
captive  before  him.  The  efforts  of  the  murderer  having  been 
noticed  in  rubbing  his  hands  to  efface  from  them  the  bloody 
vestiges  of  his  crime,  the  Captain-general  ordered  them  to  be 
bound  between  two  tablets  of  wood.  He  also  caused  to  be 
gathered  'up,  the  hat,  the  cloak,  and  thefaja,  or  sash,  of  the 


202  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

assassin,  which  he  had  thrown  off  at  different  points  during  the 
close  pursuit  of  the  watchmen,  and  also  the  knife  with  which 
the  fatal  blow  had  been  given,  and  which  was  found  near  by 
the  yet  palpitating  body.  The  Captain-general  also  immedi 
ately  nominated  an  officer  to  act  as  attorney-general  in  the  case, 
on  the  part  of  the  government,  and  then  proceeded  to  the 
business  of  taking  the  depositions.  There  was  no  possibility 
of  denying  the  fact,  and  consequently  La  Rosa  confessed  the 
crime  ;  and  seeing  himself  utterly  lost,  if  alone,  designated  as 
his  accomplice  the  young  lawyer  Don  Juan. 

Here  commenced  a  drama  of  the  judgment,  like  to  the  hor 
rible  solemnity  of  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  any 
counterpart  in  the  judicial  proceedings  of  any  other  country. 
In  the  dead  of  night  a  body  of  men  rapidly  and  silently  sur 
rounded  the  city  residence  of  Don  Juan,  his  father's  house, 
and  took  him  from  his  bed,  where  he  had  scarcely  time  to 
close  his  eyes,  even  if  his  conscience  would  have  let  him,  and 
hurried  him  before  the  Captain-general,  to  confront  his  des 
perate  accuser.  La  Rosa  entered  into  the  most  minute  details 
of  the  premeditation  of  the  murder,  with  all  the  circumstances 
of  the  diabolical  transaction,  affirming  that  Don  Juan  had 
tempted,  persuaded,  and  induced  him  to  commit  the  crime, 
having,  for  this  purpose,  offered  and  delivered  to  him 
certain  sums  of  money.  What  could  Don  Juan  answer  ?'  The 
unexpected  discovery  and  capture  of  the  hired  murderer,  in 
the  very  perpetration  of  the  crime,  and  the  suddenness  with 
which  the  bolt  of  justice  had  fallen,  were  overwhelming ;  never 
theless,  he  might  hope  to  escape.  He  maintained  the  utter 
calumny  of  the  accusation.  u  Prove  your  charge  !  Am  I  to 
be  condemned  on  the  testimony  of  a  common  assassin  ?  I  defy 
the  proof.  It  is  a  murderous  falsehood." 

If  there  had  been  any  delay,  a  skilful  lawyer  might  have 
contrive-d  a  powerful  defence.  But  the  parties  had  no  time 
even  to  sleep  upon  the  transactions.  The  investigation  was 
followed  up  with  terrible  activity  and  despatch.  And  it  was 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          203 

of  such  a  nature  as  if  dead  men  could  tell  tales  as  well  as 
living  witnesses.  At  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  another 
careo,  or  confronting,  took  place  between  the  prisoners.  But 
being  still  discordant  in  their  testimony,  they  were  conducted 
to  the  Sagrado,  or  parish  church  connected  with  the  cathe 
dral,  where  the  body  of  the  murdered  man  had  been  carried 
soon  after  the  assassination  took  place.  While  the  soldiers 
had  been  taking  Don  Juan  from  his  bed,  others  had  laid  the 
body  on  its  bier  within  the  solemn  shadows  of  the  Cathedral. 
Thither  the  multitude  of  an  awakened  city  poured,  and  there, 
under  the  dim  arches  of  the  temple,  before  the  lifeless  and 
gory  remains  of  the  victim,  La  Rosa  solemnly  swore  to  the 
charges  he  had  before  made  against  his  accomplice,  and  face 
to  face  accused  him  of  the  murder.  The  countenance  of  the 
assassin  haunts  me  now,  his  citron  face,  and  black  eyes,  like 
lamps  in  a  cave,  desperate  and  wrathful.  "  In  the  name  of 
God  I  swear  that  I  killed  this  man,  Don  Jose,  instigated  and 
hired  thereto  by  Don  Juan,  who  is  the  murderer  !"  La  Rosa 
had  nothing  to  conceal  ;  and  this  oath  to  the  bloody  corpse 
of  his  victim,  carried  with  it  into  the  soul  of  the  assembled 
multitude  a  deep,  damning  conviction. 

Meantime,  during  this  fearful  scene,  Don  Juan  remained 
abashed  and  confounded.  He  uttered  nothing  but  a  few  in 
distinct  articulations.  Then,  when  the  assassin  had- finished 
his  adjuration,  the  Attorney-General  commanded  Don  Juan 
to  take  the  hand  of  the  corpse  and  curse  the  murderer — 
u  Maledecir  su  asesino."  Pale  and  conscience-stricken,  ha 
dared  not  do  it  ;  but  as  in  a  revery,  gazed  stupidly,  and 
uttered  some  confused  mutterings.  So  finished  the  trial  by 
oath  in  the  Cathedral  with  the  murdered  man's  body. 

Next,  at  the  motion  of  the  Attorney-General,  the  prisoners 
were  conducted  together  to  the  spot  where  the  crime  was 
perpetrated,  and  there  again  interrogated  on  its  details. 
They  were  carefully  guarded  between  a  picquet  of  soldiers, 
La  Rosa  with  his  arms  pinioned  at  the  elbows,  his  bloody  hands 


201  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

still  between  the  tablets  of  wood ;  and  Don  Juan  enveloped  in 
bis  capa,  and  full  of  gloom,  remorse,  and  anxiety.  They 
were  accompanied  by  tbe  different  officers  engaged  in  taking 
the  depositions,  one  of  them  carrying,  wrapped  in  a  handker 
chief,  the  bloody  knife  of  the  murderer. 

This  weapon  was  one  of  those  Spanish  knives  in  general 
use  among  the  peasantry  of  Andalusia,  with  which  they  fre 
quently  fight  their  bloody  duels,  and  give  the  deadly  stab  in 
moments  of  furious  passion,  or  in  a  cool,  rankling  vengeance. 
J  have  one  of  these  knives  in  my  possession  ;  and  I  am  sure 
that  the  ideas  of  piracy  and  murder  attached  in  every  one's 
mind  to  the  term,  "  a  long  Spanish  knife,"  have  a  most  natu 
ral  and  legitimate  origin.  It  has  a  blade  about  twelve  or  fif 
teen  inches  in  length,  and  two  inches  wide  at  the  haft,  taper 
ing  gradually  to  a  sharp  point,  for  about  three  inches  from 
which  it  is  double-edged.  It  is  made  to  open  and  shut  like  a 
jack-knife,  with  a  strong  spring,  into  a  handle  of  brass,  the 
back  of  which  is  composed  of  a  piece  of  steel,  which  the 
peasants  use  to  strike  fire  when  they  wish  to  light  their  cigar- 
ritos  de  papel.  The  most  singular  and  characteristic  part  of 
this  knife  is  the  inscription  on  the  side  of  the  blade.  It  is  a 
very  distinct  and  significant  couplet,  reading  as  follows: 

Quien  a'  mi  amo  ofendiere 
De  mi  la  venganza  espere . 

This  may  be  rendered  exactly  in  English  rhyme  thus  : 

He  who  my  owner  doth  offend, 

On  my  keen  vengeance  must  depend. 

This  was  the  weapon  of  La  Rosa  the  murderer.  Doubt 
less  it  had  done  similar  work  in  his  hands  before. 

Thus  they  moved  on  from  point  to  point  in  their  investi 
gating  process  ;  and  never  before  or  since  have  I  witnessed 
such  a  procession  as  that.  As  it  passed  from  place  to  place, 
literally  "  making  inquisition  for  blood,"  followed  by  an  im- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          205 

mense.  rushing  multitude,  eager  to  get  sight  of  the  prisoners, 
the  impression  was  terrific.  An  intense  interest  pervaded  the 
whole  city :  all  eyes  were  strained  to  gaze,  all  ears  erect  to 
hear,  and  every  tongue  dwelt  in  accents  of  horror  on  the  de 
tails  of  the  tragedy.  At  the  spot  where  Don  Jose  had  been 
stabbed,  the  procession  rested,  and  the  criminals  were  ques 
tioned  as  to  the  route  which  they  took  from  their  place  of 
rendezvous,  to  the  point  where  they  expected  to  meet  their 
victim.  La  Rosa,  with  a  sort  of  malignant  satisfaction,  de 
scribed  the  whole  scene. 

During  the  course  of  the  day  fifty-one  witnesses  were  ex 
amined.  The  murderer  also  went  into  more  detailed  and 
astounding  disclosures,  showing,  in  part,  the  sums  of  money 
paid  beforehand,  the  cool,  calculating  deliberation  in  the  pre 
liminary  arrangements  for  the  murder,  and  their  patience  in 
awaiting  their  doomed  victim.  The  monster  persisted  in  all 
his  previous  statements,  and  spoke  of  his  crime  with  such  a 
terrible  tranquillity  and  self-possession,  that  the  tones  of  his 
voice  grated  with  a  horrid  dissonance  upon  the  ear.  Don 
Juan  remained  silent,  absorbed  in  dreadful  forebodings  as  to 
the  result.  At  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  depositions 
and  confessions  of  the  day  were  concluded.  Then,  at  four  in 
the  morning,  the  assassin  and  his  accomplice,  Don  Juan,  with 
their  legal  defenders,  and  the  whole  body  of  the  witnesses, 
solemnly  ratified  their  testimony. 

This  was  the  day  of  the  trial,  and  the  interest  and  agitation 
of  the  public  rose  to  a  still  higher  pitch.  New  conf routings 
took  place,  and  at  twelve  o'clock  the  cause  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  counsel  for  the  accused.  An  immense  multi 
tude  thronged  every  avenue  leading  to  the  Convent  of  San 
Felipe,  where  the  council  was  held  ;  and  anxiety  and  im 
patience  were  portrayed  on  every  countenance.  It  is  difficult 
to  convey  to  my  readers  an  idea  of  the  course  of  a  criminal 
process  where  there  are  no  pleadings,  nor  trial  by  jury,  nor 
anything  like  it ;  but  where  bundles  of  papers  simply  pass 


206  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

from  one  side  to  the  other,  and  accusations  and  defences  are 
read.  At  half-past  six  in  the  afternoon  the  defence  returned 
the  cause  ;  and  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  Council 
of  War  were  called  together  to  hear  the  accusations  from  the 
Attorney-General,  on  the  part  of  Government,  against  the 
prisoners,  and  their  defence  on  the  part  of  their  counsel ;  and 
from  all  the  data  and  evidence  before  the  court,  to  give  sen 
tence. 

The  speech  of  the  Attorney-General  was  short.  He  de 
manded  capital  punishment  against  both  criminals.  The 
defence  followed.  That  of  Don  Juan  was  read  by  his  de 
fender.  It  was  animated  and  logical,  and  excited  in  the 
audience  a  deep  interest.  That  of  La  Rosa  was  simple  and 
laconic,  being  merely  an  appeal  to  pity.  The  accusation  and 
defence  being  concluded,  it  would  be  natural  to  suppose  that 
thereupon  the  opinion  of  the  court  would  be  made  up,  and 
sentence  pronounced  accordingly  ;  but  now  ensued  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  scenes  which  can  be  conceived  in  the 
course  of  a  judicial  trial,  casting  around  it  a  deeper  solemnity 
and  horror  than  any  of  the  preceding  steps. 

The  defence  being  completed,  the  bloody  corpse  of  the  un 
fortunate  Don  Jose  was  solemnly  transferred  from  the  Cathe 
dral,  where  it  had  lain  amid  wax-lights  and  masses,  and  was 
brought  before  the  Council.  The  two  criminals  were  then 
posted  beside  it,  and  a  new  confronting  took  place.  La 
Rosa,  the  cold-blooded  and  hardened  assassin,  maintained  the 
same  stern  and  malignant  composure  with  which  he  appeared 
from  the  first.  If  he  could  not  escape  himself,  he  was 
resolved  that  his  accomplice  and  master  in  the  crime  should 
not.  He  re-stated  and  insisted  on  his  charges  against  Don 

O  O 

Juan,  and  entered  into  such  a  multitude  of  particulars,  that 
the  narrative  excited  fresh  horror  and  indignation.  Mean 
time,  Don  Juan  himself  endeavored  to  assume  the  air  of 
carelessness  and  defiance.  He  smoked  his  cigar,  maintained 
his  innocence,  persisted  in  denying  the  accusations  of  La 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          207 

Rosa,  and  declared  that  it  was  all  imposture  and  ca 
lumny. 

Next,  the  President  of  the  Council  directed  the  simul 
taneous  transition  of  the  tribunal,  the  prisoners,  the  Attorney- 
General,  and  the  Counsel  for  the  accused,  together  with  the 
ghastly  corpse  of  the  murdered  victim,  to  the  place  where 
the  assassination  was  perpetrated.  What  made  this  solemn 
act  more  appalling,  was  the  circumstance  of  its  being  per 
formed  at  the  dead  of  night,  before  an  immense  concourse 
of  spectators,  the  expression  of  whose  motley  faces,  as  they 
gazed  on  the  dead  body  and  on  one  another,  grew  wild  and 
deep  in  the  torch-light.  Again,  La  Rosa,  standing  beneath 
the  bloody  stains  upon  the  wall,  confirmed  all  his  previous 
statements,  and  with  singular  coolness  and  serenity  repeated 
the  minutest  details  of  the  crime. 

After  this  the  tribunal  was  dissolved,  and  its  opinion,  given 
in  writing,  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Cap  tain-General  for  his 
confirmation  or  disapprobation.  The  sentence  being  for  the 
execution  of  both  criminals,  he  made  not  a  moment's  hesitation 
to  sanction  and  perform  it ;  although  the  family  and  friends  of 
Don  Juan,  being  rich  and  powerful,  and  among  the  first  in  the 
city  for  respectability  and  influence,  made  immense  efforts  for 
the  young  lawyer's  rescue.  It  was  said  that  ten  thousand  dol 
lars  were  offered  by  them  to  the  Captain-General  if  he  would 
only  commute  the  punishment  to  imprisonment  for  life  in  the 
Presidio  of  Ceuta — a  Spanish  fortress  for  criminals  on  the  coast 
of  Africa,  nearly  opposite  Gibraltar. 

The  tribunal  being  dissolved  after  the  solemn  night-sceno 
with  the  corpse,  the  sentence  being  confirmed,  and  the  ex 
ecution  appointed,  Don  Juan  and  La  Rosa  were  placed  at  ten 
o'clock  of  the  same  morning  in  the  Chapel  of  the  Convent — 
entrar  en  capilla — to  prepare  for  their  approaching  death. 
Entrar  en  capilla  is  an  expression  for  which,  in  English,  we 
have  no  exact  equivalent.  When  it  is  said  of  a  criminal  in 
Spain,  u  Esta  en  capilla^  you  need  no  other  statement  to 


208  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

inform  you  that  in  a  few  hours,  or  a  day  or  two  at  farthest, 
his  execution  will  take  place.  While  in  the  Chapel  he  is 
constantly  attended  by  priests,  who  say  the  death -masses  and 
administer  the  sacraments  ;  and  thence  he  goes  forth,  accom 
panied  by  his  confessors,  to  the  place  of  punishment.  But 
all  the  masses  and  extreme  unctions  in  the  Romish  world 
could  not  soothe  the  conscience  of  one  of  these  murderers. 
The  unhappy  young  lawyer  passed  that  day  and  the  following 
night  in  a  febrile  delirium,  amid  the  dreadful  anxieties  and 
reflections  natural  to  his  situation.  From  the  moment  of  his 
being  placed  en  capilla,  all  hope  forsook  him.  The  mur 
derer,  La  Rosa,  made  no  change  from  his  hardened  and  des 
perate  serenity. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  2nd  of  November, 
they  came  forth  from  the  capilla,  in  the  convent  of  San 
Felipe,  on  their  way  to  execution.  An  immense  mass  of  the 
population  of  Malaga  had  assembled  to  witness  the  concluding 
melancholy  act  of  this  tragedy.  In  the  midst  of  a  strong  de 
tachment  of  troops  of  the  line,  the  muffled  drums  playing  the 
dead  march,  went  La  Rosa,  walking  erect  and  firm,  with  per 
fect  self-possession  ;  at  some  little  distance,  sad  and  distressed, 
followed  Don  Juan,  walking  between  two  priests,  listening  to 
their  exhortations,  and  saluting  his  friends  and  acquaintance 
as  he  passed.  When  the  melancholy  procession  arrived  at  the 
barrio,  or  the  open  space  on  the  banks  of  the  Guadal-Medina, 
where  he  could  behold  on  the  opposite  side  the  beautiful 
country  seat  which  he  owned,  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he 
looked  upon  the  pleasant  spot  for  the  last  time.  Little  had  he 
anticipated,  while  projecting  his  murderous  intrigues,  that  not 
far  from  the  same  spot  he  should  suffer  an  ignominious  execu 
tion,  along  with  a  common  assassin,  the  hired  instrument  in 
accomplishing  his  designs  ! 

It  was  evident  that  La  Rosa  feared,  even  to  the  last,  that 
Don  Juan  might  escape.  In  a  regular  trial  by  jury,  the 
lawyers  might  have  made  much  for  Don  Juan's  defence  out  of 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVER,    M.D. 

La  Rosa's  malignity.  Several  times,  on  the  way  from  the 
chapel  to  the  place  of  execution,  the  assassin  turned  his  head 
and  looked  back,  suspicious  that  his  partner  in  the  crime  might 
not  be  coming.  "  Viene  ese  caballero  ?"  said  he — "  Is  that 
gentleman  coming  ?" 

An  open  space  on  the  west  side  of  the  Gruadal-Medina  had 
been  designated  for  the  execution,  and  thither  had  been  carried 
the  corpse  of  the  murdered  young  man  ;  the  Captain-General 
being  resolved  that  no  circumstance  of  horror  should  be  want 
ing  to  deter  others  from  the  commission  of  similar  crimes. 
And  indeed  the  whole  conduct  of  the  affair  produced  an  im 
pression  on  the  city  such  as  never  had  been  made  before. 

The  fatal  square  being  formed,  La  Rosa  again,  in  a  loud 
clear  voice,  insisted  on  the  truth  of  all  his  declarations. 
Beneath  the  solemn  adjurations  of  his  confessor,  he  declared 
that  he  forgave  Bon  Juan,  and  begged  the  bystanders  to  pray 
God  to  pardon  him  ;  and  then  in  the  true  spirit  of  the  Romish 
system,  prayed  them  to  say  a  Credo,  and  a  Salve  to  the  Virgin 
del  Carmen.  This  was  probably  the  particular  appellation 
under  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  make  his  own  "  Ora 
pro  nobis"  to  the  Virgin  Mary—Maria  del  Carmen. 

The  criminals  being  seated  together  on  the  fatal  bench,  La 
Rosa  turned  to  Don  Juan,  and  with  an  expression  of  the  most 
bitter  sarcasm,  asked — "  Es  esta  la  felicidad  que  usted  me 
prometia?"  "Is  this  the  happiness  you  promised  me?'7 
Don  Juan,  turning  to  his  confessor,  besought  him  to  interpose, 
"  Por  Dios  que  no  me  mate  ese  hombre  antes  de  tiempo!" 
"  For  God's  sake  do  not  let  that  man  kill  me  before  the  time  !" 
What  more  dialogue  of  this  kind  might  have  passed  I  know 
not ;  but  certainly  it  was  a  foretaste  of  the  wild  world  of  the 
lost,  for  the  murderer  and  his  tempter  thus  to  be  brought  to 
gether. 

As  I  stood  with  the  company  of  Spanish  friends  on  the  banks 
of  the  Guadal-Medina,  opposite  the  place  of  execution,  ex 
pecting  the  consummation  of  this  tragedy  of  Justice,  it  was  a 


210  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

moment  of  most  painful  interest.  Nature  seemed  not  at  all 
to  sympathize  in  such  a  scene.  The  deep  blue  sky  was  cloud 
less,  the  bright  rays  of  an  autumnal  sun  poured  down  with  a 
mild  and  genial  warmth,  and  our  temples  were  fanned  by  an 
air  of  such  transparent  purity  and  delicious  balminess  as  to 
render  the  very  breathing  of  it  a  luxury.  In  the  natural 
world  all  was  innocent,  serene,  and  lovely,  and  here  we  were  to 
witness  the  doom  of  men  who  had  crimsoned  the  earth  with 
their  brother's  blood  ;  plotting  and  accomplishing  a  midnight 
murder  under  such  circumstances  that  no  peaceful  citizen 
could  be  safe  for  a  moment,  if  such  crimes  went  unavenged. 

As  the  appointed  moment  arrived,  precisely  at  four  o'clock, 
an  officer's  sword  was  raised  in  the  air,  and  gleaming  in  the 
bright  sunshine  as  it  fell,  gave  the  signal  for  the  death-volley. 
A  quick,  sharp  report,  and  the  curling  smoke  from  a  dozen 
muskets,  told  that  all  was  over. — The  body  of  Don  Juan  was 
followed  to  the  grave  by  the  lawyers  of  Malaga  ;  and  that  of 
Rosa  was  buried  by  La  Caridad,  the  brotherhood  of 
Charity. 

This  execution  was  on  the  whole  most  salutary  in  its  effect 
on  the  city  of  Malaga.  I  hardly  ever  knew  such  an  instance 
of  sudden  and  awful  retribution.  Had  the  Captain-General 
acted  with  less  decision  and  promptitude — had  the  case  been 
managed  with  the  usual  chicanery  and  delay  of  Spanish  law 
tribunals,  it  was  thought  that  Malaga  would  have  become  the 
theatre  of  fearful  and  bloody  riots,  which  would  most  certainly 
have  been  turned  by  their  leaders  into  occasions  for  gratifying 
party  animosities  and  political  vengeance.  The  excitement 
was  intense,  and  it  needed  but  the  torch  applied,  to  kindle  it 
into  a  flame  that  would  have  well-nigh  burned  up  the  city.  As  it 
was,  even  amid  the  Carlist  war,  a  calm  succeeded  to  the  agi 
tation  of  the  public  mind,  and  men  felt  more  secure  than  before  ; 
for  in  the  midst  of  the  horrors  of  the  civil  conflict,  no  man  in 
Spain  could  have  predicted  that  such  an  assassination  in  any 
city  would  have  been  overtaken  with  vengeance.  The  fact  that  it 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVEK,   M.D.  211 

so  was  overtaken,  and  that  with  such  stern  summariness,  helped 
to  save  Malaga  from  the  bloody  tumults  of  the  revolution. 

Not  a  man  doubted  the  guilt  of  Don  Juan,  neither  was  there 
at  the  time  much  doubt  as  to  the  participation  of  the  wife  of 
his  victim  in  the  murder.  It  was  rumored  that  on  one  pre 
vious  occasion  they  had  together  attempted  to  poison  Don 
Jose.  The  public  authorities  considered  her  as  implicated  in  the 
crime  ;  she  was  therefore  arrested,  and  for  several  weeks  guard 
ed  by  soldiers  at  her  own  house.  It  was  thought  that  she  would 
be  publicly  executed  by  the  garrote,  a  mode  of  execution  not 
unfrequently  practised  in  Spain  under  the  civil  law.  It  is  a 
very  simple,  though  dreadful  way  of  exterminating  life,  per 
haps  invented  by  the  inquisition. 

The  criminal  sits  in  an  arm  chair  and  an  iron  collar  is  placed 
round  his  neck,  uniting  by  a  screw  behind,  so  that  when  the  fatal 
moment  arrives,  a  turn  or  two  of  the  screw  produces  such  a  de 
gree  of  compression  as  to  cause  instant  death.  The  wife  of 
Don  Jose  escaped  this  evil,  being  gradually  forgotten  by  the 
public  after  the  execution  of  Don  Juan  and  La  Rosa ;  an 
amount  of  justice  quite  unusual  in  Spain,  amid  the  shocking 
corruption  and  bribery  of  the  legal  courts.  I  should  hardly 
be  believed,  if  I  were  to  relate  some  illustrations  of  the  nature 
of  justice  in  Spain.  And  some  of  my  own  personal  experience 
of  the  manner  in  which  a  gang  of  robbers  will  set  all  danger 
at  defiance,  and  accomplish  their  schemes  in  the  open  villages 
in  open  day,  would  corroborate  the  wildest  romance. 

In  the  daily  occurrences  of  human  life,  as  well  as  in  natural 
scenery,  Spain  is  still  as  she  was  in  the  days  of  Don  Quixote, 
one  of  the  most  romantic  countries  in  the  world,  and  is  con 
stantly  exemplifying  the  verity  of  the  adage  that  truth  is 
stranger  than  fiction. 

Ved  que  historia 

Que  aentrambosen  un  punto,  o  extrano  Caso  ! 

Losmata,  Los  eucubre,  y  resuscita, 

Una  espada,  un  sepulchre,  una  memoria. 

CERVAKTES. 


212  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 


CHAP  TEE    X. 

THE     CHURCH THE     MARKETS THE     CONSTITUTION THE 

FIESTAS   AT   MALAGA,    AS   VIEWED   BY   A   PROTESTANT. 

Whatever  fruits  in  different  climes  are  found, 
That  proudly  rise,  or  humbly  court  the  ground ; 
Whatever  blooms  in  torrid  tracts  appear, 
Whose  bright  succession  decks  the  varied  year ; 
Whatever  sweets  salute  the  northern  sky 
With  vernal  lives,  that  blossom  but  to  die  ; 
These  here  disporting  own  the  kindred  soil, 
Nor  ask  luxuriance  from  the  planter's  toil. 
But  small  the  bliss  that  sense  alone  bestows, 
And  sensual  bliss  is  all  the  nation  knows. 
In  florid  beauty  groves  and  fields  appear ; 
Man  seems  the  only  growth  that  dwindles  here. 

GOLDSMITH'S  TRAVELLER. 

THE  religions  condition  of  decaying  Spain — its  ab 
ject  submission  to  the  ecclesiastical  despotism  of 
Rome — its  intestine  feuds,  and  the  civil  internecine 
war  then  raging,  weighed  heavily  upon  the  mind  of 
the  Protestant  visitor  at  Malaga,  in  183T.  There  are 
constant  allusions  to  it  in  his  Journal,  and  frequent 
entries  like  the  following,  after  witnessing  a  burial- 
service,  which  is  described  minutely,  in  which  a  com- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          213 

pany  of  orphan  boys,  called  Hijos  de  Providencia,  or 
Children  of  Providence,  had  a  conspicuous  part.  As 
they  go  along,  he  says,  they  chant  and  respond.  But, 
ah  !  how  little  is  here  thought  of  the  future  condition 
of  the  dead  ?  and  how  unprepared,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
are  the  most  of  those  who  enter  the  eternal  world 
under  the  extreme  unction  so  vainly,  superstitiously 
confided  in,  of  the  Priests  of  Rome  ?  Sad,  and  dark, 
and  gloomy,  indeed,  is  the  spiritual  state  of  a  Roman 
Catholic  community  like  this  of  Spain.  Oh,  that 
God  of  his  good  providence  might  soon  cause  the  pure 
and  blessed  religion  of  the  Gospel,  with  its  train  of 
light  and  intelligent  consolation,  to  supersede  the 
ignorance  and  darkness  of  the  Man  of  Sin ! 

Sabbath  evening.  May  7th,  1837. — Attended  service  at 
Mr.  Marks,  the  English  Consul,  and  heard  another  good  ser 
mon  read  from  the  text,  "  Whom  having  not  seen  ye  love." 
This  evening,  in  my  walk,  I  met  a  procession  which  was  an 
nounced  in  the  Boletin  this  morning.  It  is  called  the  pro 
cession  of  the  Holy  Cross,  or,  in  Spanish,  La  procesion  de  la- 
Santa  Cruz.  It  was  preceded  and  followed  by  soldiers  of 
the  National  Guard,  between  whom  walked  priests  and  mili 
tary  officers  bearing  long  wax  candles,  and  six  or  eight  others 
carry  upon  their  shoulders  a  kind  of  tabernacle,  in  which  was 
seen  the  Cross.  There  was  another  Cross  also  borne  by  a 
single  man,  and  a  crimson  canopy  borne  by  several  others,  to 
cover  it  in  case  of  rain  during  the  progress  of  the  procession. 
The  nuns  uncovered  their  heads  as  it  came,  and  the  houses  of 
the  streets  through  which  it  passed  had  the  balconies  deco 
rated  with  colored  cloths.  This  is  a  part  of  the  machinery 
of  Rome,  adopted  from  Paganism,  to  tickle,  and  please,  and 
enslave  the  people  ;  and  how  well  it  succeeds,  the  religious, 


214:  MEMOEIALS   OF   THE  LIFE 

I  should  rather  say,  the  irreligious  condition  of  the  Spanish 
nation  too  plainly  proves.  Alas  !  the  spiritual  state  of  this 
city,  and  of  the  country  in  general,  is  sadly  degraded  and 
sunken  under  the  long-continued,  darkening  reign  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Apostasy. 

"  Though  poor,  luxurious  ;  though  submissive,  vain ; 
Contrasted  faults  through  all  their  manners  reign ; 
Though  grave,  yet  trifling;  zealous,  yet  untrue ; 
And  even  in  penance  planning  sins  anew. 
All  evils  here  contaminate  the  mind, 
That  opulence  departed  leaves  behind." 

May  God  of  his  mercy,  who  alone  can  do  it,  yet  raise  this 
nation  from  its  present  low  estate  !  and  may  its  people,  ere 
long,  by  the  circulation  of  the  pure  Word  of  God,  become 
an  enlightened  and  truly  Christian  people,  and  put  away  the 
childish  play,  as  well  as  the  Satanic  corruptions,  of  the  Man 
of  Sin  ! 

I  have  had  the  pleasure,  since  I  have  been  here,  of  dis 
tributing  many  Bibles,  Testaments,  and  Tracts,  including 
quite  a  large  number  of  little  books  for  children,  prettily 
bound  with  yellow  covers,  published  by  the  English  Tract 
Society  in  London,  which  were  left  with  me  for  distribution, 
with  some  Spanish  Bibles  and  other  books,  by  an  English 
midshipman  of  the  frigate  Tyne,  to  whom  we  had  a  letter  of 
introduction  from  Rev.  Mr.  Rule,  the  missionary  at  Gibraltar. 
A  few  of  their  titles  are  familiar  in  English :  "  The  Young 
Cottager ;"  "  The  Happy  Negro  ;"  "  Honesty  is  the  Best 
Policy  ;"  "  Little  Henry  and  his  Bearer."  For  a  week 
or  two  after  I  began  to  distribute  them,  (which  I  did  only 
in  a  quiet  way,)  the  house  was  thronged  with  people  after 
them,  particularly  many  little  children — pretty  little  girls  and 
boys,  of  the  most  respectable  families,  who  came  in  quest  of 
the  "  libritos,"  or  little  books.  Many  priests  also  came  after 
them,  and  for  the  "  Biblia  entera,"  or  the  whole  Bible,  which 
they  manifested  a  great  desire  to  obtain.  It  has  afforded  me 


OF  NATHANIEL   CIIEEYKR,   M.D.  215 

great  pleasure  to  be  the  instrument  in  thus  diffusing  God's 
truth  ;  and  I  cannot  but  hope  good  may  result  from  it,  which 
I  shall  never  know. 

Malaga,  July  7th. — There  are  now  here,  or  were  a  few 
days  since,  a  company  of  four  or  five  students,  wandering 
about  the  country,  with  guitar,  flute,  and  tambourine,  accom 
panied  by  the  voice,  and  words  generally  "  levantadas  de  la 
cabera,"  as  the  Spaniards  say,  or  extemporaneous,  according 
as  subjects  may  present  themselves,  often  in  praise  of  those 
who  give  them  something,  and  sometimes  in  satire  of  those 
who  do  not.  They  are  often  from  very  respectable  families, 
and  sometimes  rich,  spending  their  vacations  in  perambulating 
the  country  in  the  garb  of  poor  musicians  in  search  of  adven 
tures,  and  to  see  the  world  ;  a  two-cornered  hat  on  the  head, 
and  a  blanket  thrown  over  their  left  shoulder. 

Not  long  since,  one  came  here  with  his  companions,  who 
had  a  letter  of  recommendation  to  Mr.  H.,  one  of  the  richest 
men  in  Malaga,  from  whom  he  drew  what  money  he  wanted  ; 
and  in  the  evening,  after  the  ambulations  of  the  party  were 
finished  for  the  day,  he  doffed  his  coarse  garb,  dressed  him 
self  as  a  gentleman,  and  went  into  society ;  but  always 
joined  his  musical  companions  again  the  next  day.  Others 
adopt  this  mode  to  obtain  something  during  their  vacations  to 
pay  their  college  expenses.  They  come  from  the  universi 
ties  of  Salamanca,  Murcia,  and  other  parts,  and  probably 
have  many  a  curious  adventure  to  recount  to  their  fellow- 
students,  on  their  return  to  college  at  the  end  of  their  amus 
ing  peregrinations. 

The  markets  in  Malaga  now  present  to  the  eye  a  rich  pro 
fusion  of  fruits  and  vegetables  ;  and  it  is  a  sightly  walk  to 
pass  through  them.  Ripe  cherries  of  two  kinds,  red  and 
black  ;  apricots,  pears,  apples,  not  quite  ripe  ;  golden  plums 
and  damsons ;  brevas  or  early  figs  ;  mulberries,  oranges, 
lemons,  and  many  more  different  kinds,  which  I  cannot  name, 
tempt  the  appetite  of  the  passer  by,  whose  ears  are  assailed 


216  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

with  the  Billingsgate  cries  of  the  men  and  women,  some  of 
them  hideous,  withered  old  hags,  that  are  selling  them.  "  A 
tres  cuartos  peras  muy  buenas  ?  A  tres,  a  tres !  Cerezas 
muy  buenas  !" 

Besides  being  sold  in  the  markets,  both  fruits  and  vege 
tables  are  hawked  about  the  streets  by  men,  women,  and 
children  of  both  sexes,  whose  sharp,  shrill  cries  are  very  an 
noying  to  the  ear.  Potatoes,  beans,  peas,  cabbages,  gree-n 
apples,  rich  heaps  of  that  delicious  vegetable,  the  tomato, 
lettuce,  and  all  sorts  of  green  stuff  for  salad ;  beets,  carrots, 
turnips,  garbanzos  or  Spanish  peas,  altramuces  or  lupines, 
pumpkins,  squashes,  cucumbers,  spinage,  cauliflower,  garlic, 
onions  of  a  prodigious  size,  and  others,  are  piled  up  in  abun 
dance  on  each  side  as  you  pass  along  through  the  Mercado. 
Grapes  and  melons  will  in  a  few  weeks  be  added  to  the  list 
which  this  fine  climate  so  abundantly  affords,  with  little  or 
no  pains  to  improve  the  modes  of  cultivation.  By  grafting, 
the  apples  of  this  country  might,  doubtless,  be  greatly  im 
proved  ;  at  present  they  are  far  inferior  to  those  of  our  own 
country,  as  are  also  the  peaches. 

The  beef  market  of  the  city  is  not  to  be  compared  with 
that  for  vegetables  and  fruit.  There  is  no  attention  paid  to 
fattening  the  cattle,  but  they  are  driven  to  the  slaughter  with 
out  any  special  feeding,  and,  consequently,  their  flesh  can 
neither  be  fat  nor  very  tender."  Spanish  mutton  is  pro 
verbially  good,  and  the  fish  market  is  well  supplied  with  a 
great  variety.  The  little  buccaronies,  savory  and  edible  be 
yond  almost  any  product  of  the  sea,  seem  to  be  a  peculiar 
gift  of  Providence  to  the  coast  of  Malaga.  It  may  be  re 
garded  as  a  peculiar  boon  to  the  poor,  for  they  can  be  ob 
tained  very  cheap,  and  form  a  good  part  of  their  living. 
Malaga,  indeed,  took  its  original  name  (Malacca)  from  the 
abundance  of  its  fish.  The  oysters  are  large,  but  not  equal 
in  taste  to  those  of  New  York. 

In   a  few  weeks  the  prickly  pears,  or  "  Higos  chumbos 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVER,    M.D.  2J  7 

o'  de  Pala,"  will  form  one  of  the  principal  street  cries  of  the 
boys  about  Malaga.  Great  numbers  of  extemporaneous  tents 
also  are  erected  for  the  sale  of  them.  The  common  people 
are  extravagantly  fond  of  them,  and  sometimes  they  eat  an 
enormous  number  at  once.  It  is  death  to  drink  any  ardent 
spirits  or  wine  after  eating  them,  as  in  that  case  they  become 
a  coagulated  mass  in  the  stomach,  which  it  cannot  possibly 
digest,  and  dreadful  colics  ensue.  A  little  water  is  advan 
tageous,  and  is  generally  taken  with  them.  The  most  re 
spectable  people  often  go  to  these  tents  to  eat  this  singular 
fruit,  which  they  are  wont  to  devour,  seeds  and  all.  Some 
times  an  officer  will  be  met  flogging  along  the  streets  persons 
who  have  eaten  too  many  of  them,  and  then  have  indulged  in 
wine  or  spirit,  and  who,  if  not  thus  treated,  would  lie  down 
and  die  of  colic. 

July  V7th. — The  number  of  Saints'  days  and  Virgin's  days, 
and  holy  Martyrs'  days,  and  other  dias  de  fiesta  in  the  Spanish 
calendar,  make  up  a  sum  almost  equal  to  half  the  number  of 
days  in  the  year.  Many  of  them,  as  to  abstinence  from  labor, 
are  observed  with  much  more  strictness  than  the  Sabbath  it 
self.  Yesterday  afternoon  there  was  a  procession  called  La 
Procession  de  Nuestra  Seiiora  del  Carmen,  which  sallied  out 
of  the  church  of  that  name,  on  the  other,  side  of  the  Guadal 
Medina,  between  six  and  seven  o'clock.  First  came  a  small 
guard  of  Nacionales,  immediately  followed  by  the  full  length 
image  of  a  feminine  saint,  dressed  in  a  long  white  cloak,  gaily 
ornamented,  a  crown  on  her  head,  and  holding  in  one  hand  an 
ink-stand  and  quill,  in  the  other  a  book.  She  was  carried  on  the 
shoulders  of  four  men,  and  is  called  Santa  Tenza,  a  saint  that 
wrote  a  great  deal,  as  a*  Spanish  lady  assures  me,  and  was 
"  Muy  Literaria,"  of  which  the  book  and  quill  in  her  hand  are 
emblems.  A  priest  followed  next,  bearing  a  banner,  and  at 
the  distance  of  a  few  rods  came  the  celebrated  Virgin,  the 
veritable  image  of  Nuestra  Senora  del  Carmen,  standing  in  a 
kind  of  custodium  or  tabernacle,  having  muslin  curtains,  drawn 
10 


218  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

** 

aside,  the  whole  carried  on  the  shoulders  of  men,  who  every 
now  and  then  would  stop  and  rest  the  weight  of  their  holy 
burden  upon  upright  posts  placed  upon  the  ground. 

After  "  Our  Lady"  came  a  goodly  company  of  priests  with 
crosses,  a  military  band  of  music,  and  as  a  rearguard,  another 
company  of  Nacionales.  These  at  her  sallying  out  from  church 
fired  a  salvo  of  musketry,  and  also  at  her  return,  and  the  peo 
ple,  as  the  procession  passed  along,  took  off  their  hats,  though 
they  did  not  kneel.  It  passed  on  as  far  as  the  bridge,  and 
when  Our  Good  Lady  had  arrived  in  a  favorable  situation  to 
behold  the  sea,  she  most  charitably  blessed  it  with  several 
gesticulations  of  her  arm  ;  and  from  this,  the  day  of  the  pro 
cession  in  her  honor,  the  ladies  begin  to  bathe,  and  not  before, 
religiously  believing  that  after  receiving  her  benediction,  the 
water  can  do  them  no  harm  !  This  kind  act  is  performed  by 
means  of  joints  and  hinges  in  the  arm,  which  are  made 
to  give  the  necessary  motion,  by  means  of  a  cord  inside, 
pulled  when  the  time  comes,  by  the  hand  of  some  friendly 
coadjutor,  for  whose  assistance  "  Our  Lady"  surely  ought  to 
be  very  thankful. 

There  was  a  little  fair  of  fruits  and  toys,  in  the  Calle  del 
Carmen,  through  which  the  procession  passed,  and  a  large  con 
course  of  people,  with  more  than  the  usual  desecration  of  what 
in  Protestant  countries  is  considered,  and  in  some  measure  ob 
served  as  the  Christian  Sabbath.  But  alas  !  if  one  did  not 
previously  know  the  nature  and  obligations  of  that  blessed 
institution,  a  half  century  of  years  spent  in  Catholic 
countries  would  not  teach  them  to  him  from  observation. 
Wherever  Popery  prevails,  there  the  Sabbath  is  prostrated, 
and  instead  of  being  a  blessing,  is,  under  that  wicked  system, 
turned  into  a  curse,  for  during  its  precious  hours,  men's  pas 
sions  run  to  still  greater  "  excess  of  riot"  than  on  other  days. 
I  withdrew  from  the  scene  deeply  pained  at  witnessing  these 
superstitious,  degrading  rites  that  cannot  profit  them  that 
are  occupied  therein  ;  and  inwardly  praying  that  the  pure  and 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEB,  M.D.          219 

blessed  gospel  might  soon  emerge  clear  as  the  sun,  from  the 
stupendous  mass  of  idolatry  and  error  under  which  it  now  lies 
buried. 

September  9th. — Yesterday  afternoon  was  celebrated  the 
annual  procession  of  the  Nuestra  Senora  de  la  Victoria,  be 
ing  formed  at  the  Convent  of  that  name,  where  the  keys  of 
Malaga  were  surrendered  to  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  in  1492. 
The  Virgin  came  in  the  centre  of  the  procession,  in  a 
mahogany  tabernacle,  adorned  with  artificial  flowers,  and 
having  an  image  of  the  infant  Saviour  at  her  feet,  both  tricked 
out  with  the  usual  finery.  The  Virgin  had  a  silver  crown  on 
her  head,  and  a  half  moon,  or  crescent  of  the  same  material 
at  her  feet — the  whole  wheeled  along  upon  a  car,  close  to 
which  several  women  were  following,  thinking  to  be  healed 
of  some  infirmity  in  this  close  contiguity  to  their  Benedita 
Sefiora.  The  Nacionales  were  all  under  arms,  lengthening 
the  train  by  their  military  array,  and,  as  the  procession 
arrived  at  two  different  points,  discharges  were  made  from 
two  artillery  pieces,  the  bells  of  course  giving  their  usual 
salvo  of  noise.  It  passed  down  the  street  Victoria  into  the 
Plaza  de  Riego,  and  then  back  to  the  Convent,  from  whence 
this  lady  sallies  once  only  in  the  year,  the  eighth  of 
September. 

Amid  numerous  observations  and  records  like  these 
of  passing  events  and  scenes,  improving  to  himself  for 
the  effort  of  composition,  it  is  grateful  to  find,  by 
entries  like  the  following,  from  time  to  time,  in  the 
Private  Journal,  that  the  interests  of  the  soul  and  the 
Culture  of  personal  religion,  were  not  neglected  : 

Sabbath  afternoon,  July  23rd. — This  day  I  have  solemnly 
renewed  my  covenant  with  God  ;  and  oh,  that  he  may  grant 
me  strength  to  keep  it  better  than  I  have  yet  done.  His 
grace  alone  is  sufficient  for  me.  To  my  deep  sorrow,  in  the 


220  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

bitterness  of  my  soul  have  I  again  and  again  experienced  my 
own  utter  weakness  and  folly — my  readiness  to  fall  into 
temptation,  and  depart  from  the  Lord.  Oh  that  it  may  never 
more  be  thus !  Lord,  keep  me  evermore  near  to  thee. 
u  Never  let  me  from  thee  wander  ;  keep  me  near  thee  till  I 
die."  In  Cowper's  words  would  I  say  : 

.But.  ah  !  my  inward  spirit  cries, 

Still  bind  me  to  thy  sway  ; 
Else  the  next  cloud  that  veils  the  skies, 

Drives  all  these  thoughts  away. 

Perhaps  more  than  at  any  former  period  of  my  Christian 
course  (though  it  is  needed  at  all  times),  is  the  necessity  now 
more  urgent  of  fervent,  constant  prayer.  I  am  here  in  this 
Roman  Catholic  city,  where  the  Sabbath  is  observed  by  all 
classes  merely  as  a  day  of  recreation  ;  I  see  all  around  me  care 
less  and  unconcerned  for  their  immortal  souls  ;  and  this  where 
there  is  no  temple  dedicated  to  the  pure  worship  of  God,  and  the 
preaching  of  the  blessed  Gospel — where  there  is  no  one  that 
I  know  of  with  whom  to  enjoy  Christian  communion  and  fel 
lowship. 

By  the  unspeakable  goodness  of  God,  my  health  is  vastly 
improved  ;  but  this,  in  one  sense,  furnishes  another  reason 
for  increased  energy,  watchfulness,  and  prayer,  as,  in  propor 
tion  as  my  strength  increases,  so  increases  the  strength  of  my 
animal  nature,  Here,  then,  must  I  diligently  watch  against 
temptation.  u  Keep  under  my  body,  and  bring  it  into  sub 
jection."  I  am  -alone.  I  have  no  one  to  commune  with 
freely  upon  the  things  that  pertain  to  the  kingdom  of  God — to 
the  everlasting  welfare  of  the  immortal  soul.  Oh,  Holy 
Spirit,  Divine  Comforter,  be  thou  my  guide;  iake  of^th^ 
things  of  Christ  and  show  them  unto  me,  and  impart  to  my 
soul  sweet  peace  and  joy  in  believing  in  him.  Blessed  Jesus, 
be  thou  my  friend,  whose  love  never  faileth.  Let  me  ever 
abide  at  the  foot  of  thy  cross,  and  there  may  all  my  sins  be 
washed  away  by  faith  in  thy  precious  blood. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVER,    M.D.  221 

"  Help  me  to  reach  the  distant  goal, 

Confirm  the  feeble  knee ; 
Pity  the  sickness  of  a  soul 
That  faints  for  love  of  thee. 

I  seem  forsaken  and  alone, 

I  hear  the  lion  roar  ; 
And  every  door  is  shut  but  one — 

Yet  that  is  mercy's  door. 

There  till  the  dear  Deliverer  come, 

I'll  wait  with  humble  prayer  ; 
And  when  he  calls  his  exile  home, 

The  Lord  shall  find  him  there." 

Sabbath  evening,  September  17 'th,  1837. — This  morning,  at 
twelve  o'clock,  in  compliance  with  previous  arrangement,  I 
went  to  the  lodgings  of  a  young  man,  an  Englishman,  by  the 
name  of  Cooper,  where  we  united  in  reading  the  beautiful 
service  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  I  hope  with  some 
spiritual  enjoyment  and  devotion.  This  young  man  has  spent 
a  considerable  part  of  his  life  in  the  British  provinces  of 
North  America,  where  his  friends  now  reside.  He  has  come  to 
Malaga  for  his  health,  and  is  writing  in  a  counting-house.  He 
is  the  only  person  I  am  acquainted  with  in  Malaga,  who  seems  to 
have  any  true  interest  in  spiritual  things.  Yesterday  he  wrote  me 
a  note,  proposing  that  we  should  meet  on  the  forenoon  of 
Sunday,  and  join  together  in  the  service  of  the  Church,  thus 
signalizing  that  day  by  some  social  religious  act.  This  I  am 
most  glad  to  do,  the  family  of  the  British  Consul  having  gone 
to  England  ;  and  hope  it  may  be  attended  with  our  mutual 
benefit.  To-day  an  American  captain  and  his  wife  dined 
with  us.  I  have  had  to  listen  and  take  part  in  much  miscel 
laneous  conversation.  I  may  say  with  emphasis,  in  the  words 
of  a  beautiful  hymn  of  Steele  : 

Alas,  what  hourly  dangers  rise  \ 

What  snares  beset  my  way  ! 
To  heaven  then  let  me  lift  mine  eyes, 

And  hourly  watch  and  pray. 


222  MEMORIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

I  am,  indeed,  surrounded  with  evil  influences,  with  snares 
and  temptations,  and  spiritual  enemies,  both  within  and  with 
out.  I  have  done  wrong  this  afternoon  in  walking  out  with 
the  company  we  had,  and  thus  involving  myself  in  a  sea  of 
perplexing  doubts,  and  recriminations  of  conscience.  I  will 
not  do  it  again,  the  Lord  helping  me.  I  will  endeavor  to  act 
in  all  things  as  conscience  dictates,  and  never  go  contrary  to 
it.  This  will  cost  me  a  struggle,  for  I  am  not  unfrequently  in 
situations  where  much  decision  is  needed  ;  but  by  the  grace 
of  God,  I  will  exercise  it.  I  will  strive  to  keep  the  Sabbath 
holy,  even  to  the  end  of  it.  I  will  make  it  a  day  of  spiritual 
reading,  meditation  and  prayer — "  a  day  holy  unto  the  Lord, 
honorable."  I  will,  by  the  grace  and  assistance  of  God,  strive 
to  have  a  conscience  void  of  offence  in  all  things  towards  God 
and  towards  man.  And  0  gracious  and  blessed  Redeemer, 
help  me  so  to  do,  and  mercifully  purge  my  conscience  from  all 
the  stains  of  guilt  it  has  contracted.  "  Wash  me  thoroughly 
from  my  iniquity,  and  cleanse  me  from  my  sins ;"  and  grant 
me  that  purity  and  solid  peace,  which  the  world  can  neither 
give  nor  take  away. 

A  letter  to  his  eldest  brother,  then  in  London,  about 
this  time,  alluding  to  recent  intelligence  from  America 
says : — 

How  rejoiced  am  I  to  hear  of  the  revival  in  New  York  ! 
What  blessed  news,  and  how  should  I  delight  to  have  some 
pleasant  Christian  friend  to  participate  in  the  joy  it  occasions. 
But  there  is  here  no  one  like-minded,  who  cares  for  these 
things,  and  to  whom  to  communicate  such  news  with  any  pros 
pect  of  reciprocation.  One  thing  I  am  able  to  do  ;  I  can  turn 
the  current  of  my  joy  into  the  channel  of  praise  and  prayer, 
for  the  continuance  of  this  precious  blessing,  and  for  its  ex 
tension  over  our  whole  beloved  land.  Perhaps  the  Lord  means 
to  make  this  a  year  signal,  and  long  to  be  remembered  by  his 
church,  and  by  many  rejoicing  converts,  for  the  glorious  out- 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVEE,    M.D.  223 

pouring  of  bis  Holy  Spirit.  May  He  in  the  abundance  of  Hia 
mercy,  and  almigbty  power,  grant  tbat  it  may  be  so.  I  long 
to  bear  the  particulars  of  this  blessed  work,  and  whether  the 
same  Holy  Agent  continues  to  display  His  power  in  our  be 
loved  native  place. 

I  have  to  overcome  a  great  deal  of  inertia  in  writing  in  my 
journal.  But  taking  for  my  motto  "  Labor  omnia  vincit,"  I 
mean  to  achieve  a  complete  description  of  all  we  have  seen 
and  met  with. 

A  letter  to  his  sister  in  Hallowell,  at  the  same  period 
notes  with  thankfulness  the  improvement  in  his  health, 
and  contains  his  itinerary  of  a  day  in  Malaga,  which 
sheds  instructive  light  upon  his  character  and  habits 
at  that  time. 

MY  VERY  DEAR  SISTER. — I  am  continually  thinking  of 
you  all,  and  often,  very  often,  I  endeavor  to  paint  your  proba 
ble  situation  before  me  in  my  mind's  eye,  and  imagine  myself 
present,  conversing  with  my  beloved  Mother  and  sister. 
Particularly  when  your  welcome  letters  are  received,  does  my 
heart  leap  out  in  earnest  longing  to  behold  your  faces,  and  en 
joy  the  sweet  reality  of  a  personal  interview.  And  how  would 
such  an  interview  gladden  your  hearts,  for  you  would  see  in  my 
appearance  the  ocular  demonstration  of  a  vast  improvement 
in  my  health.  I  have  not  had  the  slightest  attack  of  asthma 
for  two  months,  and  the  one  I  then  experienced  was  very  light. 
Indeed  my  system  seems  now  to  be  fairly  emerging  from  the 
bondage  of  that  distressing  disorder,  which  has  so  long  cramped 
its  energies,  and  hindered  me  from  the  fulfilment  of  my 
fondest  wishes  ;  and  with  cheerful  gratitude  would  I  record 
this  unspeakable  blessing,  and  pray  for  its  continuance,  and 
that  I  may  have  grace  to  use  all  my  returning  health  and 
strength  in  the  pure  and  blessed  service  of  Him  who  gives  it. 
When  I  compare  my  present  comfortable  health  with  my  ex- 


224  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

hausted,  suffering,  and  almost  dying  condition,  last  year,  at 
this  time  under  my  own  native  roof,  administered  to  and 
alleviated  by  the  fond  attentions  of  my  beloved  Mother  and 
sister,  well  may  my  heart  be  filled  with  gratitude  at  the 
change,  and  that  I  am  now  in  a  state  not  to  need  those  tender 
cares,  though  far  removed  from  all  those  so  dear  to  me,  who 
Lave  been  wont  to  bestow  them. 

It  is  now  more  than  five  weeks  since  I  began  to  bathe 
regularly  every  day  in  the  sea,  except  the  Sabbath,  and  it  has 
been  of  great  advantage  to  my  health  ;  besides  I  have 
learned,  perfectly,  that  noble  and  useful  art  of  swimming. 
I  "get  up  every  morning  at  half-past  five,  and  go  down  with 
my  compaiiero,  Uncle's  servant,  Jose,  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of 
my  bath  in  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  which  I  can 
assure  you  is  very  grateful.  There  are  several  other 
Spanish  young  gentlemen,  that  bathe  at  the  same  time 
and  place  with  myself,  though  the  greater  part  of  the  people 
bathe  in  the  evening.  At  that  time,  between  eight  and  nine 
or  ten  o'clock,  the  highest  Senoritas  and  Sefloras  in  Malaga,  as 
well  as  the  lowest,  avail  themselves  of  this  healthful  and  re 
freshing  amusement ;  and  perhaps  our  New  England  ladies 
would  be  astonished  to  hear  that  there  are  many  of  them 
very  good  swimmers. 

After  my  bath,  I  generally  take  an  hour's  walk,  then 
return  to  my  room,  and  commence  the  duties  of  the  day.  We 
have  breakfast  about  nine,  and  the  forenoon  I  generally  devote 
to  studying  the  Spanish,  and  recite  a  lesson  to  Magdalena  after 
dinner.  Eetween  one  and  two  o'clock  I  take  a  short  walk, 
and  go  into  the  Gabinete  de  Lectura,  or  Reading  Room,  which 
was  established  here  at  the  commencement  of  the  year,  and  is 
a  very  pleasant  place  of  resort.  As  Uncle  is  a  sub 
scriber,  I  have  a  carte  blanche.  The  principal  Spanish 
periodicals,  as  well  as  French  and  English  papers,  are  here 
taken,  and  Uncle  receives  from  time  to  time  files  of  New  York 
papers,  so  that  I  do  not  fail  to  be  informed  of  news  from  all 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVEE,    M.D.  225 

parts  of  the  world,  that  from  my  own  beloved  country,  as  you 
may  naturally  suppose,  always  taking  precedence  in  interest. 

After  dinner,  which  we  have  a  little  before  three  o'clock, 
having  spent  an  hour  with  Magdalena,  I  read  or  write,  often 
the  latter  in  my  journal,  and  at  evening  take  a  walk.  I  retire 
to  bed  between  ten  and  eleven,  and  now,  dear  E.  I  have  given 
you  the  history  of  a  day,  having  been  thus  particular  in  com 
pliance  with  your  known  and  oft  expressed  desires. 

We  are  as  a  family  one,  "  Our  fears,  our  hopes,  our  aims 
are  one,  our  comforts  and  our  cares."  I  often  think  of  this 
beautiful  hymn,  and  sometimes  sing  it,  though  it  is  singing  the 
songs  of  Zion  in  a  strange  land,  for  I  have  no  Christian  friend 
to  unite  with  me  in  its  spirit.  How  blessed  it  is  that  besides 
the  bonds  of  natural  affection  which  bind  us,  we  are  also  joined 
in  heart  by  the  strong  delightful  ties  of  Christian  love  and 
fellowship,  and  though  we  are  now  widely  separated  in  space, 
may  this  happy  union  be  daily  more  and  more  firmly  cemented 
till  we  are  one  in  heaven. 


"  The  homes  of  this  world  become  dim  and  decay, 

And  friends,  when  they  meet,  are  too  soon  called  to  sever ; 
But  the  mansions  prepared  in  the  regions  of  day, 

Stand  beaming  and  beautiful  ever  and  ever , 
And  those,  whom  the  Saviour  shall  lead  to  that  shore, 
Shall  stray  from  its  mansions  and  part  never-more." 


226  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 


CHAPTEE   XI. 

THE  EXPERIMENT  AND  EXPERIENCE  OF  A  VOYAGE  TO 
SOUTH  AMERICA,  WITH  NOTES  UPON  MONTEVIDEO  AND 
BUENOS  AYRES. 

There  is  no  light  without  companion  shade ; 

There  are  no  griefs  which  do  not  herald  joys  : 
In  Nature's  balance  all  are  fairly  weighed, 

And  every  thing  must  have  its  equipoise. 
There  is  no  gold  withouten  some  alloys, 

And  no  alloys  which  are  entirely  dross ; 
Day  weighs  with  darkness — silence  follows  noise  ; 

Life  has  two  sides — its  profit  and  its  loss. 

ANON. 

LEAVING,  with  regret,  the  salubrious  clime  of  Anda 
lusia,  where,  as  we  have  seen,  the  experiment  upon 
the  health  of  the  invalid  was  in  successful  progress, 
we  are  out  once  more  upon  the  swelling  Atlantic. 
"We  have  noted  the  improvement  effected  in  the  sum 
mer  of  1837,  and  the  joy  and  gratitude  elicited  by 
the  prospect  of  returning  health.  We  have  seen  how 
life  could  be  enjoyed  by  one  every  way  fitted  for  its 
enjoyment,  when  the  grasp  of  disease  was  somewhat 
relaxed. 

The  short  period  of  sunshine  must  now  be  followed 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.  227 

by  a  long  one  of  shade.  The  joy  of  health  must  give 
place  to  the  grief  of  sickness.  The  sparkling  wine  of 
life  must  be  dashed  with  its  wormwood.  The  profit 
and  the  loss  must  alternate,  in  order  perhaps  that  cha 
racter  may  gain  its  equipoise  ;  certainly  that  the  wise, 
though  inscrutable  purposes  of  God's  gracious  dis 
cipline  may  be  accomplished  with  his  child,  and  that 
it  may  be  seen  hereafter,  if  not  now,  how  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God. 

~Not  forgetting  the  principle  of  letting  well  enough 
alone,  nor  without  some  doubts  on  the  score  of  ex 
pediency,  but  over-ruled  by  the  opinion  and  advice  of 
others,  by  whom  he  had,  in  a  measure,  to  be  governed, 
the  beloved  subject  of  these  memorials  again  departed 
upon  a  long  sea  voyage,  for  which  there  offered  a 
favorable  opportunity  in  the  autumn  of  1837,  from 
Malaga  to  Montevideo  and  Buenos  Ayres,  in  the 
bark  Isaac  Ellis,  Capt.  Spring.  His  Private  Journal  at 
the  time  evinces  considerable  solicitude  and  doubt  in 
respect  to  the  change  and  undertaking.  But,  in  the 
order  of  Divine  Providence,  it  wTas  so  to  be.  Letters 
to  his  Sister,  dated  at  sea,  October  26th,  1837,  and 
afterwards  at  Montevideo,  let  us  into  his  estate,  em 
ployments,  and  prospects  on  shipboard,  and  after 
arriving  again  at  land  : 

Bark  Isaac  Ellis,  Long.  30°  W. 

MY  DEARLY  BELOVED  SISTER — Our  voyage  may  now 
fairly  be  considered  as  half  accomplished. 

You  will  naturally  wish  to  know  of  my  present  situation 
and  employments  on  shipboard,  and  I  can  with  pleasure  give 
you  the  particulars.  Captain  S.  and  myself  occupy  the  after 


228  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

cabin  of  the  vessel — a  small,  but  nevertheless  comfortable 
little  place,  separated  by  a  partition  from  the  cabin  in  which 
we  eat,  and  where  the  first  and  second  mates  have  their 
berths.  Here,  if  you  could  some  evening  peep  in,  particu 
larly  that  of  the  Sabbath,  you  might  find  us  seated  upon  the 
transoms,  on  our  respective  sides  of  the  cabin,  singing  to 
gether  one  of  the  sweet  songs  of  Zion,  and  talking  of  home 
and  native  land — the  Captain  of  his  wife  and  "  bairns,"  and 
I  of  a  dear  Mother,  Sister,  and  Brothers.  I  find  him  on 
shipboard  as  he  was  on  land — a  gentlemanly,  agreeable,  intel 
ligent  man,  and  one  actuated  by  Christian  principle,  the  sea 
and  the  command  of  his  own  vessel  not  having  caused  that 
metamorphosis  which  took  place  in  our  quondam  captain. 
No  work  but  that  absolutely  necessary  in  managing  the  vessel 
is  done  on  the  Sabbath  ;  the  decks  are  quiet,  and  the  men 
may  improve  the  day  if  they  will,  in  a  proper  manner,  which, 
alas,  few,  in  the  true  spiritual  sense  of  the  word,  are  disposed 
to  do. 

My  employments  principally  alternate  between  reading  and 
writing.  In  Spanish  I  am  reading  Don  Quixote,  which  I 
commenced  long  since.  I  read  a  chapter  daily  in  the  Spanish 
Bible,  having  already  finished  the  New  Testament. 

You  may  be  assured,  dear  E.,  that  it  was  not  in  itself  from 
any  desire  of  roving  that  I  have  become  again  a  wanderer  on 
the  deep.  Oh,  how  gladly  would  I  return  if  my  health  would 
permit,  and  again  nestle  down  in  the  quiet  home  of  my  child 
hood's  happy  hours,  where  we  have,  in  later  years,  enjoyed 
so  much  delightful  Christian  communion  and  fellowship. 
u  Those  peaceful  hours  we  once  enjoyed,  How  sweet  their 
memory  still."  Sweet  indeed  is  their  recollection  ;  and  may 
the  Lord,  in  his  unspeakable  goodness,  permit  us  again  to 
renew  them,  with  the  blessings  on  both  sides  of  health  and 
happy  peace. 

The  circumstance  which  perhaps  has  annoyed  me  more 
than  anything  else,  in  leaving  Malaga  so  suddenly,  was  the 


OF    NATHANIEL    CIIEEVER,    M.D.  229 

uncertainty  I  am  in  conc,<e$|iing  the  future  movements  of  dear 
George,  and  the  surprise  and  regret  that  my  unexpected  de 
parture  may  occasion  him.  I  do  most  earnestly  hope  that  by 
the  blessing  of  God  we  may  meet  again  at  Malaga,  on  his 
return  to  the  United  States  in  the  spring.  My  return,  I 
dare  not  say,  sweet  as  it  would  be  to  have  it  in  prospect. 
When  it  may  be  I  can  little  foretol,  or  what  may  be  my 
future  situation  and  circumstances  in  life,  if  it  should  be  pro 
longed.  "  The  way  of  man  is  not  in  himself:  it  is  not  in  a 
man  that  walketh  to  direct  his  steps."  May  the  Lord  in 
much  mercy  "  order  all  my  footsteps  by  his  word,"  and  guide 
me  in  all  my  paths  in  the  way  that  shall  be  most  for  his  own 
glory  and  my  highest  good.  I  surely  have  much  reason  for 
gratitude  in  the  very  great  improvement  that  has  taken  place 
in  my  health  during  my  residence  at  Malaga.  The  hope  of 
getting  rid  of  my  asthma  in  a  hurry,  I  have  quite  given  up. 
It  has  got  too  strong  a  hold,  and  become  too  thoroughly  inter 
twined  with  my  very  constitution,  to  be  thus  easily  loosened. 

The  utter  uncertainty  of  my  future  course  in  life,  makes 
me  often  perplexed  and  undecided  as  to  what  studies  I  shall 
most  direct  my  attention.  With  what  an  ardent  zest — with  how 
much  delight,  if  my  health  would  only  permit,  could  I  quietly 
sit  down  to  a  course  of  hard,  thorough,  systematic  study,  with 
a  view  to  preparation  for  the  Gospel  ministry,  unworthy  ves 
sel  though  I  should  be  of  bearing  so  rich  a  treasure.  But 
this  fondly-cherished,  long-indulged  hope,  though  I  cannot 
help  yet  tenderly  clinging  to  it,  perhaps,  considering  my 
health,  I  ought  to  abandon.  It  may  be  more  my  duty  to 
address  myself  to  the  pursuits  of  commerce,  or  of  some  active 
business  life. 

At  the  same  time  we  find  liis  soul  breathing  itself  in 

O 

the  pages  of  his  Diary  as  follows : 

My  heart  mourns  at  being  so  far  separated  from  my  brother 
abroad,  and  all  my  other  beloved  friends  ;  and  I  sometimes 


230  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

feel  greatly  perplexed  and  in  doubt  whether  I  ought  to  have 
taken  this  voyage.  Oh  Lord,  wilt  thou  in  thy  mercy  show  by 
its  beneficial  results,  that  it  was  not  a  mis-step.  Direct  my 
steps,  and  guide  me  in  all  my  ways.  Save  me  from  future 
temptation,  and  forgive  my  innumerable  past  transgressions. 
Preserve  me,  oh  Lord,  from  depression  and  unbelief.  Grant 
me  a  strong  and  overcoming  faith  in  Jesus  my  Great  Re 
deemer,  my  Atonement,  and  High  Priest.  We  do  not  have 
worship  on  the  Sabbath  as  I  could  wish  ;  but  all  unnecessary 
labor  is  suspended,  and  stillness  reigns  on  board,  the  crew 
being  at  rest,  and  at  liberty  to  spend  the  Lord's  Day  in  a 
proper  manner. 

Montevideo ,  November  24tk,  1837. — I  think  I  may  say  that 
I  never  felt  more  deeply  my  cause  for  gratitude,  at  once  more 
finding  myself  upon  the  solid  land,  after  a  voyage  upon  the 
deceitful  ocean,  and  a  merciful  preservation  from  all  its  perils. 
How  thankfully  would  I  add,  with  health  greatly  improved  by 
the  voyage  ;  but  with  a  reluctant  sadness  I  am  compelled  to 
state,  for  I  know  your  fond  hearts  will  be  grieved  by  the  in 
telligence  that  my  strong  hopes  of  benefit  from  this  voyage 
have  been  completely  defeated.  For  the  last  three  weeks  of 
it,  I  was  a  constant  sufferer  from  my  distressing  disorder. 
Thus  has  the  Lord  seen  fit  again  "  to  weaken  my  strength  by 
the  way,"  and  disappoint  my  fondest  hopes.  I  would  feel 
that  it  is  he  who  hath  done  it,  and  would  bow  with  submission, 
to  his  will.  "  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him." 

"  Although  assurance  all  be  lost. 

And  blooming  hopes  cut  off  I  see  ; 
Yet  will  I  in  my  Saviour  trust, 
And  glory  that  he  died  for  me." 

Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord,  he  has  not  left  me  com 
fortless  in  my  affliction.  I  do  feel  sweet  peace — something 
of  that  which  the  world  can  neither  give  nor  take  away — in 
committing  myself  and  my  dearly  beloved  friends  from  whom 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          231 

I  am  so  far  separated,  and  all  our  interests  for  time  and  for 
eternity,  into  the  hands  of  him,  who  is,  I  trust,  to  us  all,  a 
faithful,  covenant-keeping  God.  His  will  be  done. 

I  am  much  better  since  I  came  on  shore.  I  find  myself 
very  pleasantly  accommodated  at  the  Fonda  del  Yapor,  kept 
by  a  Mr.  Palmer,  an  American.  There  is  no  doubt,  I  think, 
that  by  the  Lord's  blessing  I  shall  recruit  greatly  during  my 
stay  here  and  at  Buenos  Ayres.  The  weather  is  very  warm 
and  pleasant ;  there  is  a  profusion  of  fruits  and  vegetables,  and 
ripe  strawberries  of  an  enormous  size,  in  abundance,  this  being 
here  the  last  month  of  spring,  which  corresponds  to  our  May. 
I  feel  much  better  for  an  escape  from  the  confinement  of 
shipboard,  having  the  whole  city  before  me  to  exercise  in,  in 
stead  of  the  narrow  limits  of  a  ship's  decks. 

At  the  same  time,  in  a  letter  to  his  brother  Henry, 
he  says : 

During  my  sufferings  upon  the  voyage,  I  was  not  a  little 
perplexed  and  depressed  by  feeling  doubtful  whether  I  ought 
to  have  undertaken  it,  and  fearful  the  plan  might  not  meet 
the  approbation  of  my  beloved  friends,  with  various  other  un 
believing  suggestions,  which  greatly  harassed  me.  But  I 
determined  at  last  to  cast  all  my  care  upon  the  Lord — to 
solve  all  my  doubts  by  humble  faith  in  him,  even  though  I 
might  have  taken  an  erroneous  step,  and  misinterpreted  the 
leadings'  of  his  Providence.  I  tried  to  act  conformably  to 
the  sentiment  of  one  of  Cowper's  most  beautiful  hymns  : 

Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense, 

But  trust  him  for  his  grace, 
Behind  a  frowning  Providence, 
He  hides  a  smiling  face. 

How  delightful !  how  consoling  is  every  verse  of  it !  His 
hymns  in  the  Selection,  as  well  as  those  there  of  other  authors, 
have  afforded  me  great  consolation,  even  when  my  voice  has 


232  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

been  too  weak,  and  my  breath  too  short  to  allow  me  (as  I 
would  often  fain  do),  to  sing  forth  aloud  their  sweet  stanzas. 
How  would  I  delight,  if  it  could  be  so  in  health,  to  be  now 
sitting  with  you  at  our  own  snug  little  fireside,  listening  with 
quiet  enjoyment,  to  some  of  our  favorite  hymns,  from  the 
voice  and  piano  of  our  own  sweet  Sister  !  O  how  my  heart 
yearns  for  fresh  news  from  you  all,  and  what  a  long,  weary 
time  it  may  be  yet,  ere  I  receive  it !  I  shall  probably  be 
here  and  at  Buenos  Ayres  till  the  first  or  middle  of  January. 

"We  turn  now    to   the   Religions   Journal   of  date 

O 

Montevideo. 

Sabbath  Evening,  Nov.  21th. — I  have  had  rather  a  suffer 
ing  day  from  asthma,  though  much  better  than  last  Sabbath. 
This  evening  had  a  pleasant  season  of  prayer,  walking  upon 
the  house-top,  and  enjoying  the  pure,  fresh  air,  which  is  here 
very  dry  and  elastic.  The  asthma  still  hangs  with  its  leaden 
weight  upon  my  constitution,  depresses  my  animal  spirits, 
and  draws  away  my  vigor.  Still  would  I  not  complain,  but 
endeavor  meekly  to  bow,  and  say,  "  Thy  will,  0  Lord,  be 
done."  I  have  read  to-day  the  38th  chapter  of  Isaiah,  which 
contains  the  account  of  Hezekiah's  sickness,  and  miraculous 
cure. 

With  much  emphasis  can  I  use  some  of  his  words  and  find 
them  my  most  appropriate  petitions.  u  0  Lord,  I  am  op 
pressed  j  undertake  for  me."  "  Undertake  for  me."  »"  Heal 
me  and  I  shall  be  healed ;"  grant,  if  it  is  thy  will,  that  this 
evil  disease  which  now  cleaveth  fast  to  me,  may  be  removed. 
But,  0  deny  me  not  one  thing,  for  Jesus  sake  deny  it  not ;  O 
grant  that  whatever  may  be  the  dispensations  of  thy  will, 
whatever  thou  mayst  ordain,  "  pleasing  or  painful,  dark  or 
bright,"  may  by  thy  grace  bo  abundantly  sanctified  to  my 
highest  spiritual  good  ;  that  these  afflictions,  which  compared 
with  eternity,  endure  but  for  a  moment,  may  "  work  out  for 
me  afar  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  Have 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEE,  M.D.          233 

not  been  out  abroad  to-day.  There  is  here  no  Protestant 
church,  but  at  Buenos  Ayres  I  hope  to  enjoy  the  privilege  of 
once  more  entering  a  temple  dedicated  to  the  pure,  spiritual 
worship  of  God.  On  the  fifteenth,  in  much  bodily  weakness, 
but  I  trust,  spiritual  sincerity,  I  renewed  my  covenant  with  God, 
that  day  being  its  seventh  anniversary.  O  Lord,  I  entreat 
thee,  grant  me  grace  to  walk  according  to  its  tenor. 

December  11  th,  Sabbath  Evening. — The  last  week  I  have 
been  suffering  much,  from  a  renewed  attack  of  asthma. 
Last  Sabbath  was  very  unwell  as  it  was  just  commencing. 
How  my  heart  longs  for  news  from  my  dear  friends,  and  for 
their  sweet  endearing  society  !  Have  read  this  afternoon  a 
few  pages  in  the  "  Way  to  do  good."  May  I  view  thine 
hand. in  all  my  sufferings,  0  Lord,  and  have  grace  meekly  and 
sincerely  to  say  "  Thy  will  be  done." 

It  was  here  that  lie  made  up  the  following  narrative 
and  log  of  his  voyage,  in  a  correspondence  for  the  New 
York  Observer : — 

Montevideo,  Dec.,  1837. — We  set  sail  from  the  Mediter 
ranean  port  of  Malaga,  on  a  fine  sunny  day,  the  first  of 
October.  The  early  morning,  a  strange  thing  in  that  loveliest 
of  climates,  had  been  foggy  ;  but  the  sun  soon  chased  the  vapors 
over  the  sides  and  tops  of  the  vine-clad  mountains  of  Anda 
lusia,  and  by  sunset,  under  the  influence  of  a  very  gentle 
easterly  breeze,  we  were  gliding  gradually  along  in  sight  of  the 
grey  rock  of  Gibraltar. 

The  nest  morning,  between  nine  and  ten,  we  were  just 
abreast  of  it, — the  rock  with  its  impregnable  fortifications, 
barracks,  hospitals,  and  other  buildings,  wearing  even  a  more 
singular  appearance  than  usual ;  its  venerable  summit  being 
entirely  enveloped  in  a  thick  bank  of  mist,  while  over  our 
heads  the  bright  sun  was  shining  clearly,  and  the  heavens  free 
from  a  cloud.  As  we  rapidly  opened  the  bay  of  Gibraltar, 


234-  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

with  a  pleasant  breeze  filling  our  sails,  the  scene  was  beautiful. 
The  blue  outline  of  the  African  coast,  with  the  classic  waters 
of  the  Mediterranean,  were  spread  out  on  our  left  to  the  east 
ward  ;  on  our  right,  to  the  West  and  North,  Algeciras  and  the 
Spanish  coast  rose  like  an  amphitheatre,  with  the  rock  and 
town  of  Gibraltar,  and  the  shipping  in  the  bay  ;  while  in  front 
we  held  our  own  course  between  the  two  continents  of  Europe 
and  Africa. 

About  twelve  o'clock  we  passed  Tarifa  with  a  fine  fresh 
breeze,  studding  sails  set,  and  dashing  along  at  a  rapid  rate 
Its  old  Moorish  and  Spanish  fortifications  give  it  a  romantic 
appearance.  And  indeed  the  historical  associations  connected 
with  it  have  a  deep  interest,  for  it  was  at  this  point,  about 
A.  D.  713,  that  the  Moorish  troops  first  invaded  Spain,  under 
the  command  of  that  famous  Captain,  Taric  el  Tuerto — or 
Taric  the  one  eyed,  whose  achievements  "Washington  Irving 
has  celebrated  in  one  of  his  volumes  of  the  Crayon  Miscellany 

"  He  chose  a  dark  night  to  convey  his  troops  across  the 
Straits  of  Hercules,  and  by  break  of  day  they  began  to  disem 
bark  at  Tarifa  before  the  country  had  time  to  take  the  alarm. 
A  few  Christians  hastily  assembled  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
opposed  their  landing,  but  were  easily  put  to  flight.  Taric 
stood  on  the  sea  side,  and  watched  until  the  last  squadron  had 
landed,  and  all  the  horses,  armor,  and  munitions  of  war,  were 
brought  on  shore.  He  then  gave  orders  to  fire  the  ships. 
The  Moslems  were  struck  with  terror  when  they  beheld  their 
fleet  wrapped  in  flames  and  smoke,  and  sinking  beneath  the 
waves.  c  How  shall  we  escape,'  exclaimed  they,  '  if  the  fortune 
of  war  should  be  against  us  ?'  l  There  is  no  escape  for  the 
coward  !'  cried  Taric,  <  the  brave  man  thinks  of  none  ;  your 
only  chance  is  victory.'  '  But  how  without  ships  shall  we  ever 
return  to  our  homes  ?'  c  Your  home,'  replied  Taric,  l  is  be 
fore  you  ;  but  you  must  win  it  with  your  swords.' ' 

We  could  see  very  plainly,  close  under  the  point,  the  wreck 
of  the  magnificent  steam-ship  "  Don  Juan,"  which  was  here 


OF   NATHAJSTIEL  CIIEEVEE,   M.D.  235 

, 

lost  about  fifteen  or  twenty  days  previous  in  a  fog,  probably 
through  the  negligence  or  incapacity  of  the  captain,  who  judg 
ing  himself  far  enough  out  to  steer  N.  W.  for  Cadiz,  brought 
his  vessel  full  up  on  Tarifa  point.  She  was  a  perfectly  new 
and  splendidly  finished  steam-ship  of  800  tons, — having  cost 
more  than  £40,000  sterling,  this  being  only  her  second  voy 
age  between  London  and  Malaga,  touching  at  Lisbon,  Cadiz 
and  Gibraltar.  The  passengers  and  crew,  with  their  baggage 
and  the  specie  on  board,  were  all  saved,  but  all  her  splendid 
finishing,  her  rich  adornments,  are  the  mockery  of  the  waves 
in  the  stables  of  sea  monsters.  Beneath  the  troubled  surface 
of  the  mighty  ocean,  what  untold  treasures,  what  fearful  and 
curious  remains,  outrun  the  wildest  dreams  of  Shakspeare's 
imagination. 

Methought  I  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wrecks ; 
A  thousand  men  that  fishes  gnawed  upon  ; 
Wedges  of  gold,  great  anchors,  heaps  of  pearl, 
Inestimable  stones,  unvalued  jewels, 
-  All  scatter'd  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea  ; 
Some  lay  in  dead  men's  skulls;  and  in  those  holes 
Where  eyes  did  once  inhabit,  there  were  crept 
(As  'twere  in  scorn  of  eyes)  reflecting  gems, 
That  woo'd  the  slimy  bottom  of  the  deep, 
And  mock'd  the  dead  bones  that  lay  scatter'd  by. 

At  evening  we  had  left  far  behind  the  land  of  both  con 
tinents, — Cape  Trafalgar  on  the  European  side,  and  Cape 
Spartel  on  the  African.  A  Spanish  barque  that  left  Malaga 
about  the  same  time  with  ourselves,  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
The  broad  Atlantic  lay  before  us,  and  many  a  day  to  sail  upon 
its  restless  bosom,  ere  we  could  reach  our  destined  port.  In 
such  a  case,  whether  time  passes  tediously  or  not,  must  depend 
very  much  on  the  direction  of  the  voyage,  and  the  particular 
temperament  of  each  individual.  With  us  the  voyage  was 
agreeably  enlivened,  and  its  monotony  broken,  ere  it  had 
begun  to  be  felt,  by  passing  in  sight  of  two  interesting  groups 
of  islands,  the  Canaries  and  Cape  de  Verd. 


236  MEMOEIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

Saturday,  Oct.  7. — Latitude  28  cleg.  16  min.  N.,  longitude 
16  deg.  46  min.  w.  This  morning  we  came  in  sight  of  the 
Peak  of  Teneriffe,  and  have  been  sailing  along  in  view  of 
several  of  the  Canaries  all  day.  The  appearance  of  the  Peak 
was  singularly  majestic  and  sublime.  When  we  first  dis 
covered  it,  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  its  very  top,  its 
bald  head  peering  up  into  the  heavens  at  an  immense  height 
above  the  bank  of  clouds  that  surrounded  the  horizon,  and 
calmly  looking  out  in  silent  majesty  over  the  thick,  foggy 
atmosphere  of  the  regions  below.  In  the  course  of  the  fore 
noon  the  clouds  dispersed,  and  we  had  for  several  hours  a  full 
view  of  this  celebrated  mountain,  said  by  geographers  to  be 
13,500  feet  in  height.  The  whole  island  is  very  high  land, 
and  rises  rather  gradually  to  the  immense  height  of  the  Peak 
About  noon  we  passed  along  the  island  of  G-omera,  on  our 
larboard  side,  generally  bearing  about  southeast.  The  side 
presented  to  our  view  appeared  rough  and  barren,  the  eye 
being  able  to  discern  with  the  glass  but  two  or  three  spots  at 
all  cultivated.  Passing  Teneriffe,  we  had  on  our  starboard 
side,  very  far  distant,  the  island  of  Palma. 

This  afternoon  we  have  been  passing  between  Gromera  and 
Ferro,  bearing  about  N.  E.  and  S.  W.  Ferro  is  the  island 
from  which  the  Portuguese  charts  were  anciently  graduated. 
The  Canaries,  as  well  as  Madeira  and  the  Cape  de  Verds, 
are  all  under  Portuguese  dominion.  Madeira  we  passed  yes 
terday  ;  but  much  to  my  regret,  the  weather  was  so  cloudy 
that  we  could  not  see  it.  The  water  to-day  has  not  been  at 
all  discolored  by  our  vicinity  to  land,  retaining  the  same  deep 
blue  that  marks  it  in  the  middle  of  the  Atlantic.  These 
islands  rise  suddenly  from  the  ocean,  having  no  soundings 
from  one  to  the  other,  or  in  the  water  around  them — thrown 
up,  doubtless,  from  the  bed  of  the  deep  Jby  some  volcanic 
eruption. 

Friday  evening,  October  13th. — Lat.  16°  39'  N.  long. 
25°  55'  W. — Last  evening,  about  eight  o'clock,  we  came 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEYEE,    M.D.  23 7 

fully  in  sight  of  San  Antonio,  the  northwesternmost  island  of 
the  Cape  de  Verd  group.  The  night  was  magnificent,  and  I 
remained  on  deck  a  long  time,  enjoying  its  beauties  and  gaz 
ing  on  the  high  land  of  the  island  which  reared  itself  far 
above  the  ocean  to  the  south.  The  wind  was  very  light,  the 
sea  gently  ruffled,  and  our  good  bark  glided  slowly  along  be 
neath  the  silver  rays  of  a  beautiful  moon,  illumining  our 
path  over  the  mighty  waters,  and  bringing  out  in  solemn, 
majestic  relief  against  the  horizon,  the  elevated  island  we 
were  passing.  There  was  something  in  the  perfect  stillness 
of  the  night,  and  in  the  whole  scene  around  us,  that  seemed 
to  command  our  inmost  souls  to  a  solemn,  holy  silence  before 
the  Almighty  Architect  of  the  universe — the  being,  whose 
works  by  night  so  emphatically  "  declare  his  glory" — who 
himself  seemed  presently  saying,  "Be  still,  and  know  that  I 
am  God." 

This  is  the  group  of  islands  that  suffered  so  terribly 
a  few  years  since  from  famine,  when  relief  was  humanely 
sent  them  from  the  United  States.  One  of  the  vessels  that 
then  carried  them  provisions  was  bound  to  the  same  port  as 
ourselves,  Buenos  Ayres,  taking  that  singular  zig-zag  course — 
the  usual  one  for  vessels  from  the  United  States  bound  to 
Buenos  Ayres,  even  when  they  do  not  touch  at  the  islands. 
The  object  is  to  get  advantage  of  the  southeast  trade  winds 
which  commence  in  a  few  degrees  lower  latitude ;  and  the 
northeast  trades  being  of  equal  benefit  in  coming  to  that 
point  from  America,  as  they  have  been  to  us  in  sailing  from 
the  Straits  of  Gibraltar.  We  are  now  in  the  latitude  of  the 
light,  changeable  winds,  called  the  "  Variables,"  which  pre 
vail  between  the  two  trades — about  losing  the  N.  E.  and  not 
having  yet  entered  the  latitude  of  the  S.  E.  On  the  ninth 
we  crossed  the  tropic  of  Cancer.  The  thermometer  ranges 
from  70°  to  80°  in  the  shade. 

Saturday,  I4lh. — Last  evening  we  witnessed  an  eclipse  of 
the  moon.  An  eclipse  at  sea  is,  perhaps,  on  some  accounts, 


238  MEMOEIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

more  peculiarly  impressive  than  on  land.  The  beautiful 
moon  seems  a  friend  to  the  mariner  in  his  lonely  way  over 
the  deep  ;  and  when,  as  last  night,  having  risen  in  all  her 
glory,  mildly  illumining  our  path,  her  full  round  orb  becomes 
gradually  darkened  and  hid  from  view,  there  is  a  solemn  and 
almost  awfal  glory  investing  all  objects.  The  ship  ploughs 
her  way  darkly  and  silently  along — everything  is  still — the 
stars  which  were  before  hardly  to  be  seen,  now  start  out  in 
numerable  from  the  splendid  vault  of  heaven,  their  twinkling 
soon  again  in  their  turn  eclipsed,  and  cheerfulness  restored  to 
the  scene  by  the  returning  glories  of  their  superior  lumin 
ary. 

October  23rd. — We  have  probably  taken  the  S.  E.  trades, 
though  they  have  not  yet  become  settled  from  the  usual  quar 
ter.  I  can  now  testify,  from  my  own  observation,  to  the 
truth  of  all  that  has  been  said  as  to  the  worms  that  are  gene 
rated  in  the  Malaga  fruit.  Our  cargo  consists  of  fruit,  wine, 
olives,  etc.  ;  and  for  two  weeks  past  we  have  been  overrun 
with  that  kind  of  live  stock.  They  have  come  out  into  the 
cabin  in  immense  numbers,  and  penetrated  into  every  nook 
and  crevice  they  can  find — into  books,  clothes,  and  trunks, 
weaving  a  light  web  at  the  end  of  their  vermicular  wander 
ings,  and  enclosing  themselves  in  it  to  hatch  their  eggs  and 
die.  They  are  about  an  inch  long,  fat  and  oily,  and,  if  killed 
upon  paper,  they  leave  a  greasy  stain.  The  Captain  tells  us 
that  the  same  fruit,  if  kept  in  store,  will  have  another  crop 
of  worms  six  or  eight  months  hence. 

October  2oth.—Lat.  24'  S.,  long.  28°  10'  IT.— This 
morning,  about  seven  o'clock,  we  crossed  the  Equator,  trans 
ferred  in  a  moment  by  that  simple  imaginary  line  from  the 
northern  to  the  southern  hemisphere.  This  noon  we  were 
twenty-four  miles  south  of  it,  according  to  the  latitude  I  have 
given.  We  have  seen  immense  numbers  of  flying  fish,  and 
several  have  flown  aboard.  They  have  a  singular  and  beauti 
ful  appearance,  as  they  skim  along  in  immense  schools  just 


OF   NATHANIEL    CIIEEVEK,    M.D.  239 

above  the  waves,  in  which  they  often  light,  dip  their  wings, 
and  take  a  fresh  start,  keeping  above  water  till  they  become 
dry,  when  they  are  compelled  again  to  drop  into  their  native 
element ;  perhaps,  poor  things,  to  become  the  prey  of  some 
swift  dolphin,  whose  eager  pursuit  they  were  eluding  by  a 
temporary  flight  in  the  air. 

November  14th. — We  have  had  several  albatrosses  wheeling 
their  majestic  circles  round  the  vessel — one  grey-headed, 
venerable-looking  fellow,  of  an  immense  size,  whose  skin,  well 
stuffed,  and  placed  in  one  of  our  museums,  would  attract  at 
tention.  He  would  form  a  most  excellent  prototype  of  the 
albatross  in  the  "  Rhyme  of  the  Ancient  Mariner,"  some  pas 
sages  of  which,  read  by  one  at  sea,  have  an  import  that  is 
almost  terrific.  How  expressive  the  following  verse  to  one 
who  has  been  becalmed : 

Day  after  day,  day  after  day, 

We  stuck,  nor  breath  nor  motion, 
As  idle  as  a  painted  ship 

Upon  a  painted  ocean. 

The  next  verse  is  truly  terrific  in  its  import,  and  almost 
makes  one's  mouth  parch  in  reading  it : 

Water,  water,  everywhere  ; 

The  very  boards  did  shrink. 
Water,  water,  everywhere — 

Nor  any  drop  to  drink 

November  \lth. — This  day  we  arrived  in  sight  of  the  land 
of  South  America,  about  forty  miles  S.  W.  of  Cape  Santa 
Maria,  very  low,  and  to  an  unpractised  eye,  at  first  scarcely 
perceptible.  Last  evening  the  sun  set  most  magnificently, 
the  sky  unsullied  by  even  the  slightest  cloud,  and  the  atmo 
sphere  of  a  most  transparent  clearness.  The  Magellan  clouds 
were  more  distinctly  visible  than  they  have  been  during  the 
voyage.  They  seem  to  be  a  cluster  of  stars,  appearing  like 
two  detached  portions  of  what  is  called  the  "  Milky  Way," 


240  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

lighter  than  the  most  fleecy  summer  cloud.  They  are  gene 
rally  seen  about  as  high  as  the  Equator.  Magellan,  the 
Spanish  navigator,  who  first  passed  the  Straits  which  bear  his 
name,  gave  it  also  to  these  constellations . 

Yesterday  morning  we  began  to  perceive  a  decided  change 
in  the  color  of  the  water,  from  the  deep  blue  of  mid-ocean 
to  a  dark  sea  green,  indicating  our  approach  to  soundings, 
which  we  obtained  in  the  afternoon,  in  forty  fathoms,  and 
again  in  the  evening  in  thirty.  The  lead  has  been  thrown 
frequently  to-day,  bringing  up  fine  sand  and  shells  sticking  to 
the  piece  of  a  candle  which  is  jammed  for  this  purpose  into  a 
suitable  hole  left  in  the  lower  end.  Now  commenced  a  season 
of  watchfulness  and  anxiety  for  the  Captain,  far  more  weari 
some  than  when  on  mid-ocean,  with  abundant  sea-room  in 
case  of  storm.  He  must  set  his  courses  and  have  his  ship 
steered  with  the  greatest  exactness,  and  cautiously  guard 
against  the  influence  of  dangerous  and  variable  currents,  as 
a  small  mistake  might  now  lose  his  vessel. 

Many  useful  and  appropriate  illustrations,  if  the  heart  be 
disposed  for  such  meditations,  may  be  drawn  from  the  naviga 
tion  of  a  ship,  and  a  sea  life,  for  the  spiritual  voyage  of  the 
Christian.  He,  too,  must  guard  most  sedulously  against  the 
currents  and  counter-currents  in  his  course — the  ebb  and  flow 
of  temptation  and  prejudice,  for  which  he  must  always  make 
allowance  in  his  spiritual  account.  He  will  often  have  to 
u  brace  up"  sharp  against  a  head  wind  and  a  head  sea  of 
opposing  passions  and  influences  ;  still,  like  the  mariner,  he 
must  keep  his  spiritual  bark  "  stiff"  upon  her  true  course, 
however  tossed  and  driven  he  may  be  by  adverse  gales,  cheered 
in  the  darkest  hour  by  the  blessed  assurance  that  "  skilful's 
the  pilot  who  sits  at  the  helm  ;"  and,  that  though  unseen  by 
mortal  eyes,  he  will  guide  in  safety  his  faithful  disciple  to  the 
haven  of  eternal  rest,  to  that  blest  shore. 

Where  tempests  never  beat,  nor  billows  roar. 

Yours,  etc.,  N.  C. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEB,    M.D.  24:1 

We  give  here  a  few  more  extracts  from  the  South 
American  Journal,  embracing  the  natural  observations 
of  a  traveller  in  realms  yet  to  be  the  fair  abodes  of 
regenerated  humanity. 

Montevideo,  Wednesday,  Dec.  IQth,  1837. — Since  my  last 
date  I  have  been  rambling  about  the  .city,  as  health  would 
permit,  and  have  gathered  some  information  of  the  place  I 
am  in.  The  houses  are  of  but  one  and  two  stones,  and  those 
of  the  principal  merchants  generally  have  a  small  tower 
raised  above  the  roof,  which  is  flat,  from  whence  they  may 
see  the  vessels  off  the  port,  and  those  coming  in. 

The  city  is  situated  in  a  kind  of  peninsula,  having  the 
water  on  three  sides :  the  Rio  de  la  Plata  to  the  S.  W.,  the 
Bay  to  the  N.  E.,  and  the  Atlantic  to  the  East.  The  land 
rises  gradually,  sloping  on  either  side  to  the  water.  The  city 
is  laid  out  after  a  regular  plan,  the  streets  running  at  right 
angles,  and  thus  forming  squares  upon  which  are  erected  the 
buildings.  The  population  is  said  to  be  about  twenty  thousand, 
and  rapidly  increasing.  A  vast  amount  of  building  is  going 
on,  and  the  price  of  labor  of  all  kinds  is  very  high.  Rents 
are  also  high,  and  living  expensive.  Mutton  and  beef  arc 
almost  the  only  articles  of  food  that  are  very  cheap.  Beef 
is  about  one  dollar  the  arroba,  or  four  cents  a  pound,  there 
being  twenty-five  pounds  to  the  arroba. 

There  are  not  any  particularly  fine  public  buildings  in  the 
city.  The  principal  Church  or  Cathedral,  here  called  La  Iglesia 
Matrix,  is  quite  an  ordinary  edifice,  built  of  brick,  left  on  the 
outside  without  stucco,  and  unfinished.  On  the  inside  it  is  com 
plete,  but  with  very  little  ornament.  It  is  situated  on  one  side 
of  the  Plaza  Grande,  or  principal  public  square  of  the  city,  and 
on  the  opposite  is  the  Cabildo,  or  the  City  Hall.  There  is  a 
very  good  News  Room  and  Commercial  Hall,  which  has  a 
look-out  and  telegraph  communicating  with  one  established 
on  the  Cerro  or  Mount  on  the  opposite  sido  of  the  bay  to  the 
It 


342  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

westward.  By  these  vessels  are  signalized  to  a  considerable 
distance.  This  mountain,  from  which  the  city  is  named  Mon 
tevideo,  ascends  gradually,  and  being  covered  with  green  to 
the  very  top,  and  its  apex  crowned  with  a  fort,  now  used  as  a 
telegraph  station,  has  a  picturesque  appearance. 

The  face  of  the  country  is  gently  undulating,  and  well  cal 
culated  to  pasture  the  immense  numbers  of  cattle  in  which 
the  riches  of  both  this  and  the  Argentine  Republic  may  be 
said  almost  solely  to  exist.  The  immense  flocks  and  herds 
that  are  here  owned  by  individual  men,  remind  one  of  the 
pastoral  wealth  of  the  early  patriarchs  mentioned  in  Scrip 
ture.  Job's  substance  was  seven  thousand  sheep,  three  thou 
sand  camels,  five  hundred  yoke  of  oxen,  and  five  hundred 
she-asses — eleven  thousand  in  all,  while,  on  some  estancias  in 
this  country,  they  have  twenty-five  thousand  horned  cattle 
alone,  not  including,  perhaps,  a  complement  of  between  two 
and  three  thousand  sheep,  and  one  thousand  horses  !  This  is 
patriarchal  wealth,  indeed.  The  business  of  the  saladcros — 
the  establishments  where  the  cattle  are  killed,  and  the  beef 
cured  and  dried — is  said  to  be  exceedingly  lucrative.  Every 
part  of  this  useful  animal  is  valuable,  even  to  their  bones, 
which  are  here  much  used  as  fuel  to  burn  brick.  In  their 
hides,  tallow,  and  horns,  is  carried  on  the  great  export  trade 
of  the  country.  Great  quantities  of  the  jerked  beef  are 
carried  to  Havana,  for  the  consumption  of  the  slaves. 

We  find  this  little  Republic,  La  Republica  Oriental,  or 
La  Banda  Oriental,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  in  a  state  of 
civil  war,  arising  from  the  contention  for  power  between  the 
former  and  first  president — Don  Jose  Fructuosa  Rivera — and 
the  present  incumbent  and  head  of  the  government  forces, 
Don  Manuel  Orirbe.  A  day  or  two  since  news  came  by 
several  chasquis,  or  couriers,  of  the  total  defeat  in  an  engage 
ment  about  forty  leagues  from  here,  on  the  river  Yi,  of  the 
rebel  chief  Rivera.  The  city  was  soon  in  an  uproar  of  en 
thusiasm,  the  bells  set  to  ringing,  guns  fired,  and  music,  and 


OF  NATHANIEL   CHEEVEK,  M.D.  24:3 

illuminations,  in  the  evening.  The  thing  will  not,  however,  be 
finished  till  he  is  either  taken  prisoner  or  killed,  one  of  which 
two  events,  for  the  sake  of  the  country,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  may 
speedily  take  place.  Its  interests  are  very  much  injured,  and 
commerce  unfavorably  affected  by  the  state  of  uncertainty  that 
now  exists. 

There  are  but  very  few  regular  troops  in  the  city ;  but  a 
National  Guard  of  about  five  hundred  men,  who  do  the 
duty  of  patrols  and  sentinels.  Each  one  wears  in  his  hat  a 
band  of  white  ribbon,  with  the  inscription,  "  Defensor  de  las 
Leyes,"  "  Defender  of  the  laws."  Some  who  wear  this  in 
scription,  look  as  though,  instead  of  being  its  defenders,  they 
would  be  the  first  to  violate  the  law.  Fighting,  in  this  country, 
is  carried  on  almost  entirely  on  horseback ;  that  being  the 
mode  of  warfare  to  which,  from  their  constant  habit  of  riding, 
the  inhabitants  are  most  accustomed.  The  soldiers  are  armed 
with  a  lance,  carbine,  sabre,  and  pistols,  and  after  discharging 
their  fire-arms,  they  attack  each  other  hand  to  hand — cuerpo 
a  cuerpo — so  that  an  engagement  is  often  a  series  of  personal 
combats. 

Horses  are  raised  in  immense  numbers  ;  an  excellent  one  can 
be  bought  for  fifteen  or  twenty  dollars,  and  the  very  best  for 
twenty-five  or  thirty  ;  the  expense  of  keeping  in  the  city, 
amounting,  in  about  a  month,  to  the  original  price  of  the 
horse.  Travelling  is  here  chiefly  performed  on  horseback,  and 
the  rate  at  which  the  people  ride,  and  the  number  of  leagues 
they  perform  in  a  day,  is  astonishing ;  ninety  or  one  hun 
dred  miles  a  day  being  not  an  unusual  journey.  A  gallop 
is  the  usual  pace,  and  little  consideration  is  felt  for  the  well- 
being  of  the  animal,  who  thus  faithfully  carries  them,  for  when 
one  is  killed  by  over-exertion,  a  few  dollars  only  is  required  to 
supply  his  place.  The  horses,  however,  being  first  broke  to 
this  rapid  mode,  become  accustomed,  and  hardened  to  it. 

The  costume  of  the  country  people,  or  guachos  as  they  are 
here  called,  to  the  eye  of  a  stranger  is  very  novel  and  singular. 


244  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

They  generally  wear  on  horseback  a  kind  of  cloak,  called 
poncho,  made  with  a  hole  at  the  top,  fitted  for  the  neck, 
hanging  before  and  behind,  covering  the  arms,  but  leaving 
them  less  embarrassed  than  the  common  one.  These  are  of 
various  colors,  some  of  blue  cloth,  others  of  a  flaming  scarlet 
red,  others  of  a  strong  cotton  cloth,  variously  striped.  Their 
lower  dress  is  generally  a  pair  of  cotton  drawers,  or  pantaloons, 
with  a  fringe,  over  which  is  fastened  round  the  waist  a  piece 
of  thick  red  cloth,  going  quite  round  the  body,  and  the  ends 
meeting  in  front ;  a  clumsy  dress,  one  would  think,  for  a 
laboring  man.  As  they  gallop  rapidly  through  the  country, 
their  gay  costume  flaunting  in  the  wind,  they  realise  the 
idea  which  imagination  has  formed  from  pictures  in  child 
hood.  A  hat  or  cap  is  the  usual  covering  for  the  head.  The 
drawers  and  sash,  of  red  or  other  cloth,  and  sometimes  a 
coarse  white  gown  or  frock,  is  a  usual  costume  among  the 
laboring  classes,  or  peones  in  the  city. 

Slavery  is  permitted,  although  there  is  in  operation  a  gra 
dual  scheme  of  emancipation.  A  law  was  sanctioned  by  the 
House  of  Representatives,  when  the  Oriental  State  had  just  de 
clared  itself  independent,  on  the  7th  of  September  1825,  de 
claring  all  to  be  free,  without  exception  of  origin,  that  should 
be  born  from  that  day  forward,  and  prohibiting  the  traffic  in 
slaves  from  a  foreign  country.  They  are  sometimes  introduc 
ed  clandestinely,  but  the  whole  number  in  all  the  province 
does  not  amount  probably  to  more  than  five  or  six  thousand. 

This  Province  declared  itself  independent  by  its  representa 
tives,  assembled  in  the  town  of  Florida,  the  25th  of  August 
1825  ;  and  by  a  treaty  of  peace  between  the  Argentine  Re 
public,  and  the  empire  of  Brazil,  signed  at  Rio  Janeiro,  28th 
of  August,  1828,  its  independence  was  acknowledged  under 
guarantee  of  Great  Britain.  Its  present  constitution  was  sanc 
tioned  by  the  Constitutional  Assembly,  September  10th,  1829. 
It  much  resembles  in  its  general  provisions  that  of  the  United 
States,  from  the  model  of  which  the  constitutions  of  most  of 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          245 

the  South  American  Republics  are  formed.  There  is  a  Senate 
and  House  of  Representatives  chosen  by  the  people,  and  a 
President  elected  for  four  years.  The  territory  of  the  re 
public  is  divided  into  twelve  departments,  each  one  of  which 
sends  a  senator  to  the  Assembly.  It  contains  three  cities,  viz  : 
Montevideo,  La  Colonica,  and  Maldonado  ;  seventeen  towns 
and  nine  villages  or  pueblos. 

The  police  regulations  of  the  city  are  very  good  ;  murders 
and  robberies  of  rare  occurrence.  The  "  serenos"  or  watch 
men  patrol  the  streets  at  night,  carrying  a  lantern,  and  well 
armed  with  lance  and  pistols,  beginning  to  cry  the  hour  at  ten 
o'clock,  and  mentioning  the  state  of  the  weather  as  in  old  Spain. 
They  are  so  numerous,  that  it  is  safe  passing  the  streets  at 
any  hour  of  the  night.  Montevideo  lies  in  Lat.  34°  54', 
South  ;  and  Long.  56°  14',  West.  The  whole  republic  is 
said  to  contain  seventy-nine  thousand  square  miles,  and  about 
eighty  thousand  inhabitants,  its  population  rapidly  increasing 
by  foreign  emigration.  There  are  no  wild  Indians  within  the 
province  ;  but  many  of  the  country  people — peones,  or 
guachos — seem  to  be  a  kind  of  civilised  Indians,  their  features 
and  complexion  much  like  those  of  North  America,  cheek 
bones  very  high,  hair  jet  black,  long,  and  straight. 

Land  is  about  $2,000  the  square  league,  and  some 
Estaucias  contain  as  many  as  fifty  or  sixty  square  leagues. 
On  some  of  these  the  proprietors  live,  and  have  comfortable 
houses,  on  others  there  is  no  building  but  a  few  miserable 
ranchos,  or  sheds,  for  the  peones  who  take  care  of  the  cattle. 
On  the  estancias  distant  from  the  city,  they  generally  culti 
vate  only  land  enough  to  afford  vegetables  for  family  use, 
as  their  great  source  of  profit  is  the  raising  of  cattle.  The 
dried  or  jerked  beef  looks  anything  but  fit  to  eat,  as  one  sees 
it  thrown  like  sheep-skins  from  the  carts  into  the  lighters  for 
embarkation.  Indeed  in  its  appearance  at  a  little  distance,  it 
has  a  resemblance  to  old  dried  pelts,  being  cut  in  slices  from 
every  part  of  the  animal,  whose  carcass  may  literally  be  said 


246  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

to  be  flayed  to  a  skeleton,  the  bones  of  which,  as  I  have  said 
before,  are  used  to  burn  brick. 

As  to  the  climate  its  sudden  changes  do  not  agree  with  me, 
although  the  air  is  very  pure.  The  wind  is  almost  all  the 
time  blowing  hard  from  some  quarter  or  other  of  the  compass, 
which  is  not  very  favorable  for  complaints  of  the  chest. 

Buenos  AyreSj  January  18^,  1838. — Since  my  last  date  I 
have  become  a  temporary  sojourner  in  this  city,  and  another 
year  has  commenced  its  swift  career.  On  the  evening  of  the 
24th  of  December,  I  embarked  on  board  the  little  packet 
schooner  Eupacia,  of  eighty  tons  burthen. 

About  three  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-fifth, 
we  came  safely  to  anchor  in  front  of  the  city,  in  the  inner 
roads,  and  immediately  after  having  received  the  visit  of  the 
boarding  officers,  we  went  on  shore,  being  transferred  from 
the  boat  to  a  cart,  and  from  the  cart  discharged  upon  terra 
firma  much  to  our  content  after  a  good  round  jolting — truly  a 
novel  way  of  landing.  This  mode  is  really  ridiculous,  and  it 
is  a  good  commentary  on  Spanish  indolence  and  want  of  en 
terprise.  There  is  a  bank  or  shoal  in  front  of  the  city,  hav 
ing  on  it  from  one  to  three  feet  of  water,  extending  out  per 
haps  the  sixteenth  of  a  mile  ;  and  this  distance  you  have  to 
be  carried  in  a  rickety  cart  drawn  by  horses  or  mules,  which 
backs  up  to  the  boat,  and  receives  you  to  be  spattered  and 
jolted  at  the  mercy  of  the  cart-man,  who  straddles  one  of  the 
beasts,  till  much  to  your  relief  he  emerges  with  his  living 
cargo  upon  the  dry  land.  At  an  expense  comparatively 
small  to  the  advantages  that  would  result  from  it,  a  good 
solid  quay  might  be  constructed  to  a  depth  of  water  suf 
ficient  for  the  lighters  and  small  craft  to  discharge,  and 
receive  the  cargoes  of  vessels  of  burden  lying  in  the  roads. 

About  two  miles  from  the  city  down  the  river,  there  is  a 
little  creek  or  river,  "  Riochuelo,"  as  it  is  called,  which  has  a 
depth  of  water  sufficient  for  vessels  of  very  light  draft,  and 
where  the  small  coasting  craft  receive  their  cargoes.  There 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEK,    M.D. 

is  a  wooden  quay  built  a  mile  from  its  mouth,  where  the  ves 
sels  lie,  and  this  place  is  called  the  Boca.  Some  lighters  are 
loaded  at  this  place,  and  others  immediately  from  the  carts 
in  front  of  the  Custom  Houso. 

My  quarters  are  pleasantly  situated  in  a  central  part  of  the 
city,  on  a  long,  wide  street,  leading  into  the  quiet  square,  the 
balcony  of  my  room  commanding  a  pleasant  view  up  and 
down.  The  house  is  kept  by  an  American  lady,  who  has 
long  resided  in  this  country,  and  has  a  son  in  the  Buenos 
Ayrean  navy.  The  boarders  are  mostly  captains  and  super 
cargoes  of  American  vessels. 

The  first  of  January,  New  Year's  Day,  was  a  gala  day 
in  Buenos  Ayres.  The  Governor-General,  Rosas,  opened 
in  person  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the  province. 
The  streets  around  the  building  were  strewed  with  sweet- 
smelling  fennel,  and  covered  with  an  awning.  A  corps  of 
armed  citizens,  called  El  Guardia  del  Honor,  Cavalry,  and 
bands  of  music,  lined  the  street  through  which  the  Governor 
was  to  pass.  As  he  entered  the  building,  and  passed  into  the 
Hall  of  the  Representatives,  the  files  rung  with  "  Viva  la 
Federacion  !"  "  Viva  el  Restaurador."  The  bands  of  music 
struck  up,  and  a  salute  was  fired  from  the  fort.  I  saw  him 
as  he  passed  in  at  the  door — a  fine,  martial-looking  man, 
splendidly  dressed  in  military  costume,  a  great  deal  of  energy 
and  decision  depicted  in  his  countenance,  which  is  a  true 
index  of  his  mind,  judging  from  his  vigorous  measures. 

The  opening  speech  or  message  was  read  by  the  Secretary 
to  the  House,  printed  the  next  day  in  the  daily  papers — a 
long  document,  chiefly  treating  of  local  affairs.  In  the  even 
ing  there  was  an  immense  ball  at  the  fort,  at  which  the  Gov 
ernor  and  his  family  were  present,  the  foreign  ministers,  and 
a  large  assemblage  of  the  fashion  and  beauty  of  Buenos 
Ayres.  The  popular  cry  here  now  is  "  Viva  los  Federales," 
"  Mueran  los  Unitarios."  A  large  number  of  the  citizens 

O 

wear  a   piece   of  red  ribbon  with    this   inscription   in    their 


248  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

button-holes  ;  and  over  the  door  of  every  public  office,  build 
ing,  or  institution,  this  device  is  painted  in  large  letters.  On 
NewYear's  Day,  no  one  without  the  device  in  their  button 
hole  was  permitted  to  enter  the  galleries  of  the  House  of 
Representatives  ;  and  I  was  obliged  to  put  one  on  for  the 
time  being,  for  fear  of  insult  from  the  mob. 

The  Governor-General,  Don  Manuel  Rosas,  is  the  Execu 
tive  of  the  province.  All  executions  are  military,  criminals 
being  shot  by  a  file  of  soldiers.  This  province,  Buenos 
Ayres,  is  charged  by  all  the  other  provinces  of  the  Confede 
ration  with  the  administration  of  foreign  affairs,  and  is,  there 
fore,  the  court  of  the  nation,  and  the  residence  of  all  foreign 
ministers.  The  Federation  is  composed  of  thirteen  pro 
vinces,  each  having  its  separate  Governor  and  House  of  Re 
presentatives.  The  United  Provinces  of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata, 
called  more  generally  the  Argentine  Republic,  comprehends 
a  surface  of  one  million  of  square  miles,  extending  from  the 
Tropic  of  Capricorn  to  40°  10'  south  latitude,  and  embrac 
ing  a  longitude  of  from  9°  to  15°.  It  is  bounded  on  the  north 
by  Bolivia,  east  by  the  Paraguay,  and  by  the  Cordilleras 
mountains,  separating  it  from  Chili.  To  the  south  lie  the 
deserts  of  Patagonia.  The  river  Uruguay  serves  as  a  divid 
ing  line  from  the  Oriental  Republic. 

The  banks  of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata  were  first  discovered  in 
1517,  by  Solis,  and  afterwards  by  Cabot  in  1526.  In  1535, 
the  Spanish  government  began  to  settle  this  side  of  it,  form 
ing  the  first  colony  under  the  direction  of  Don  Pedro  Men- 
doza,  and  giving  it  the  name  of  Nuestra  Sefiora  de  los  Buenos 
Ayres,  her  surname  being  added  from  the  good  climate  and 
situation  of  the  city.  This  was  its  first  foundation.  It  was 
afterwards  abandoned,  and  again  recommenced  by  Don  Juan 
Saray,  in  1580.  The  goodness  of  the  climate,  and  the  com 
munication  with  Peru  and  Chili,  of  which  it  was  the  key,  so 
much  increased  the  population  and  importance,  that  in  1778  it 
was  erected  into  a  Vice-Regency. 


OF   NATHANIEL    CIIEEVEE,    M.D.  249 

Buenos  Ayres,  the  Capital,  in  1807  resisted  an  English  ex 
pedition  of  eleven  thousand  men,  reduced  the  half  by  force  of 
arms,  and  compelled  the  other  half  to  capitulate,  promising  to 
evacuate  the  Rio  de  la  Plata,  and  retire  to  England.  The 
ninth  of  July,  Independence  of  the  Provinces  was  proclaimed. 
In  1810,  the  Revolution  of  the  Provinces  broke  out,  when  the 
authority  of  the  Spanish  Government  was  thrown  off;  and  in 
1819,  a  Congress  was  convened  in  the  Capital,  and  the  present 
Constitution  of  the  Provinces  that  now  form  the  Federation, 
was  published. 

Until  1828,  they  were  called  the  United  Provinces  of  the 
Rio  de  la  Plata ;  but  in  that  year  was  formed  the  present 
government  of  the  Federation,  or  Argentine  Republic.  This 
year  is  called  the  Twenty-eighth  Year  of  Libercy,  Twenty- 
second  of  Independence,  and  Sixth  of  the  Argentine  Re 
public.  Since  the  present  Governor,  or  President  of  the 
City  and  Province  of  Buenos  Ayres,  came  into  power,  the 
government  has  been  much  better  regulated,  and  crimes 
greatly  diminished  by  exemplary  punishment  and  salutary 
enactments.  He  refused  the  office  of  Governor  three  several 
times,  when  it  was  tendered  to  him  ;  and  at  last  said,  that  if 
they  would  invest  him  with  extraordinary  powers,  he  would 
accept  of  it,  if  he  were  chosen  by  a  majority  of  the  people. 
He  was  again  chosen,  and  now,  in  effect,  wields  the  power  of 
a  Dictator,  and  is  called  the  "  Restaurador  de  las  Leyas" — 
"  Restorer  of  the  Laws,"  which,  in  many  respects,  he  may 
truly  be  said  to  be,  as  before  his  election  anarchy  and  mis 
rule  prevailed,  and  there  was  but  little  security  for  life  and 
property. 

His  policy  has  lately-  been  to  encourage  the  priests,  and 
even  the  Jesuits  have  been  publicly  allowed  within  the  last 
eighteen  months,  and  they  now  have  a  college  of  boys  in  the 
city.  The  churches  have  been,  and  are  being  repaired,  and 
the  friars  are  permitted  to  walk  the  streets  in  their  full  robes. 
Great  numbers  have  come  from  Spain  since  the  suppression 
11* 


250  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

of  the  Convents,  and  are  now  arriving  from  time  to  time 
Twenty-five  Friars  and  eight  Jesuits  recently  arrived  from 
Cadiz.      They  have  been  well  received  by  the  government, 
and  provision  made  for  their  residence. 

There  are  in  the  city  fourteen  Churches  and  two  Hospitals. 
There  is  also  an  asylum  for  orphan  children.  The  Govern 
ment  has  a  College,  where  the  students  are  fitted  for  either 
of  the  three  professions — theology,  medicine,  or  law.  Com 
mon  Schools — "  Escuelas  de  Primeras  Letras" — are  quite 
numerous.  There  are  also  English  schools  supported  by  the 
British  and  American  residents  in  this  place.  There  are  a 
large  number  of  British  and  other  foreign  residents  here,  and 
many  have  married  with  the  natives  of  the  country.  Of 
Americans  there  are  less,  though  many  more  than  in  Monte 
video.  The  whole  population  of  the  city  is  between  seventy- 
five  and  eighty  thousand.  The  Argentine  Republic  includes 
a  surface  of  779,000  square  miles.  A  large  territory  in  the 
northern  and  central  parts  of  the  country,  is  in  possession  of 
the  Indians.  The  whole  population,  not  including  the  Indians, 
is  779,000.  That  of  the  Province  of  Buenos  Ayres,  120,000; 
its  square  miles,  95,000.  According  to  another  statement, 
the  Indians  are  put  down  at  1,000,000. 

The  city  of  Buenos  Ayres  is  situated  on  the  west  bank 
of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata,  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles  from  the 
ocean.  It  is  here  about  ten  leagues,  or  thirty  miles  wide  ; 
and  sometimes,  in  very  clear  weather,  the  opposite  coast  can 
be  seen.  At  its  mouth  it  is  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
from  cape  to  cape,  formed  by  the  union  of  the  Uruguay 
and  Parana.  The  Parana  rises  in  the  mountains  of  Brazil, 
about  two  thousand  miles  long,  joins  the  Uruguay  a  little 
above  the  city  of  Buenos  Ayres.  The  Uruguay  rises  in  the 
southern  part  of  Brazil,  its  general  course  southwest,  and 
about  twelve  hundred  miles  long.  The  currents  in  the  La 
Plata  are  very  strong  and  variable,  sometimes  up  and  some 
times  down,  much  according  to  the  wind.  With  a  strong 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          251 

north  wind,  the  vessels  in  the  inner  roads  are  sometimes 
almost  high  and  dry,  the  water  being  temporarily  driven  out 
to  sea. 

We  add  to  these  extracts  from  his  Journal  for 
Friends,  a  record  found  about  this  time  in  the  Keli- 
gions  Diary,  011  occasion  of  his  going  up  once  more  to 
the  courts  of  the  Sanctuary,  and  singing  the  Lord's 
songs  in  a  strange  land : 

Buenos  Ayres,  Jan.  23rd,  1838. — To-day  I  have  enjoyed 
the  unspeakable  privilege  of  again  partaking  in  the  affecting 
service  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  with  a  few,  who,  I  trust, 
truly  love  his  name.  A  Missionary  of  the  Methodist  Epis 
copal  Church  of  the  United  States,  who  was  sent  out  about  a 
year  since,  has  succeeded  in  forming  a  little  church  among  the 
foreign  population,  and  in  fitting  up  a  hall  for  Divine  worship. 
He  seems  a  truly  pious,  devoted  man.  I  attended  the  pre 
paratory  meeting  on  Friday  morning,  at  eleven  o'clock,  and 
have  enjoyed  a  profitable  season  to-day,  in  again  renewing  my 
vows  at  the  Table  of  the  Lord.  Oh,  blessed  Jesus,  how  in 
finite  is  thy  love  !  how  amazing  thy  condescension  in  dying 
for  lost  and  guilty  man  ! 

What  an  unworthy  disciple  I  have  been  the  last  year  ! 
How  have  I  grieved  the  dear  Saviour,  by  my  repeated  back- 
slidings  and  transgressions  !  By  thy  grace,  blessed  Jesus,  I 
will  do  so  no  more.  But  only  by  thy  grace ;  for  my  own 
strength,  alas !  how  often  have  I  found  it  to  be  but  perfect 
weakness.  I  would  lie  low  at  the  foot  of  thy  Cross,  with 
deep  penitence  and  contrition,  confessing  my  sins  and  entreat 
ing  thy  pardon,  and  thy  strength  against  future  temptation. 
How  sweet  to  lie  there  !  How  blessed  a  spot !  There  may 
I  ever  stay.  Blessed  Saviour,  ever  keep  me  there,  for  there 
alone  is  safety. 


252  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

"  My  faith  would  lay  her  hand, 

On  that  dear  head  of  thine 

;  While  like  a  penitent  I  stand, 

And  there  confess  my  sin.;? 

Oh,  how  sweet — how  unutterable  is  thy  love  !  May  my 
whole  soul  be  melted  down  and  subdued  by  its  influence, 
and  moulded  entirely  into  thine  own  image.  May  this  new 
year  be  to  me  a  year  of  spiritual  blessing — a  year  of  growth 
in  grace.  Oh,  be  with  me  in  all  my  journeyings  by  sea  and 
by  land.  Keep  and  bless  me  in  all  my  ways.  To  thee 
would  I  rejoice  renewedly  and  unreservedly  to  consecrate  all 
that  I  have  and  am,  and  to  commit  to  thee  the  disposal  of 
all  events.  Oh,  prepare  me  for  them  all,  and  sanctify  them 
to  my  best  good — sickness  or  health,  joy  or  sorrow,  life  or 
death. 


"  In  every  joy  that  crowns  my  days, 

In  every  pain  I  bear, 
My  heart  shall  find  delight  in  praise, 

Or  seek  relief  in  prayer. 
When  gladness  wings  my  favorM  hour, 

Thy  love  my  thoughts  shall  fill ; 
Resigned  when  storms  of  sorrow  lower, 

My  soul  shall  meet  thy  will. 
My  lifted  eye  without  a  tear, 

The  gathering  storm  shall  see ; 
My  steadfast  heart  shall  know  no  fear — 

That  heart  will  rest  on  thee." 


OF  NATHANIEL  GHEEVER.  M.D.          253 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE  CAUSE,  HISTORY,  AND  CIJKE  OF  DESPONDENCY — SUB 
SEQUENT  RETURN  TO  AMERICA,  AND  ENTRANCE  UPOft 
THE  STUDY  OF  MEDICINE. 

To  lay  the  soul  that  loves  him  low, 

Becomes  the  Only- wise : 
To  hide  beneath  a  vail  of  woe, 

The  children  of  the  skies.  * 

Ah,  vainly  anxious  !  leave  the  Lord 

To  rule  thee  and  dispose  ; 
Sweet  is  the  mandate  of  his  word, 

And  gracious  all  he  does. 
Down  then  with  self-exalting  thoughts  ; 

Thy  faith  and  hope  employ 
To  welcome  all  that  he  allots, 

And  suffer  shame  with  joy. 

MADAME  GUYON. 

WE  enter  now  upon  a  part  of  these  memorials  full 
of  melancholy  interest  to  ourselves,  and  by  no  means 
destitute  of  instruction  to  others.  If  its  perusal  shall 
be  the  means  of  impressing  a  single  invalid,  or  vale 
tudinarian  traveller  in  quest  of  health,  with  the  impor 
tance  of  being  always  accompanied  by  a  trusty  friend, 
it  will  not  be  written  in  vain. 


254  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

"We  say,  with  earnestness,  to  any  one  whose  health 
is  much  impaired,  especially  if  young,  DO  NOT  GO 
ABROAD  ALONE.  If  you  do,  there  is  reason  to  fear  that 
travelling  will  do  you  more  harm  than  good.  A 
thousand  times  you  will  want  some  one  with  a  com 
mon  interest,  in  whom  you  can  confide — to  advise 
with  you — to  counsel  you — to  decide  for  you,  when  you 
cannot  well  decide  for  yourself ;  and  half  the  profit  of 
journeying  will  be  lost  by  the  perplexity  you  will 
often  be  in,  of  determining  what  to  do  and  where  to 
go,  in  the  change  of  circumstances,  health,  hopes,  and 
prospects,  which  will  often  be  experienced  in  the  life 
of  a  traveller. 

There  is  much  truth  in  a  saying  to  be  found  in 
Schiller's  Piccolomini,  which  we  have  hitherto  seen 
remarkably  exemplified  in  the  life  we  have  been  trac 
ing : 

The  game  of  life 

Looks  cheerful,  when  one  carries  in  one's  heart 
The  unalienable  treasure.    'Tis  a  game, 
Which,  having  once  reviewed,  I  turn  more  joyous 
Back  to  my  deeper  and  appropriate  bliss. 

Beyond  all  doubt,  the  unalienable  treasure  and  guar 
antee  of  cheerfulness,  being  reconciliation  to  God,  was 
in  that  heart  (now  at  rest  in  heaven),  whose  pulsations 
are  still  beating  in  the  leaves  of  this  book.  In  his 
sky  the  star  of  hope  was  always  in  the  ascendant. 
The  aspect  which  life  had  to  him,  notwithstanding  all 
his  suffering,  was  green  and  cheerful.  He  was  wont 
to  view  things  on  their  sunny  side ;  or,  if  a  cloud  in 
terposed,  he  had  learned  to  look  beyond  it. 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          255 

We  have  seen,  at  the  close  of  the  last  chapter,  what 
those  who  knew  him  had  often  occasion  to  observe, 
how  serenely  he  could  behold  the  gathering  storm. 
But  a  storm  of  trial,  temptation,  perplexity,  doubt, 
and  despondency,  was  now  preparing,  which  he  little 
dreamed  of,  and  which  alone,  as  he  was  in  a  strange 
land,  without  one  congenial  earthly  friend  or  helper, 
had  well-nigh  overwhelmed  him.  It  all  originated  in 
a  painful  distress  of  mind  (which  the  presence  of  a 
single  skilful  friend  might  have  prevented),  induced 
by  the  apprehension  that  he  had  acted  wrong  and  un 
wisely  in  abandoning  a  Spanish  vessel  wherein  he  had 
taken  passage  for  Cadiz,  and  so  forfeiting  the  passage- 
money  previously  paid.  His  state  of  mind  up  to  that 
step,  and  certain  items  of  his  South  American  history, 
not  heretofore  given,  are  contained  in  the  following 
letters  to  his  friends  : 

Buenos  Ayres,  Feb.  Qth,  1838. 

DEARLY  BELOVED  SISTER. — When  I  last  wrote,  on  the  23d 
of  January,  I  was  under  the  influence  of  an  asthmatic  attack  ; 
I  have  now  again  recovered,  and  am  in  comfortable  health, 
vastly  better  than  when  I  first  arrived  here.  I  have  enjoyed 
my  short  residence  in  this  city  much  more  than  I  did  that  at 
Montevideo  ;  I  have  found  more  society,  and  have  been  in 
better  health.  Moreover,  I  have  enjoyed,  on  the  return  of 
every  Sabbath,  the  privileges  of  the  sanctuary  ;  and  though  in 
a  foreign  land,  among  strange  faces,  they  have  been,  I  assure 
you,  very  delightful.  There  is  no  language  I  hear  like  the 
language  of  Canaan,  and  that  not  in  stately  Castiliau,  but  in 
our  own  dear  native  English.  On  the  first  Sabbath  of  the  year, 
with  a  few  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus,  I  partook  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  at  the  chapel  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dempster,  the  American 


256  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

Methodist  Missionary  at  this  city.  I  thought  much  of  you  all, 
and  trust  it  was  a  precious  season  to  your  souls  ;  to  myself  I 
think  I  may  truly  say  it  was  a  profitable  one.  Jesus  seemed 
to  be  present,  and  u  his  banner  over  me  to  be  love  ;"  his  cross 
and  atonement  appeared  unspeakably  precious,  and  upon  it 
only,  I  felt  to  hang  all  my  hopes,  and  at  its  foot  to  lie 
with  a  deep  sense  of  my  own  utter  unworthiness  and  ill-desert. 
It  is  indeed  a  precious,  blessed  spot.  Oh,  that  we  could  ever 
humbly  keep  there,  and  always  feel  the  love  of  Jesus  secretly 
constraining  us.  To  Him  would  I  rejoice  renewedly  to  con 
secrate  myself,  and  to  commit  to  His  disposal  the  direction  of 
all  my  future  steps. 

How  unspeakable  is  our  cause  for  gratitude  that  we  all  as  a 
family  have  such  a  Saviour  to  go  to,  that  though  absent  in 
body,  and  wandering  upon  the  earth,  we  may  often  meet 
in  spirit,  at  the  throne  of  His  grace.  Prayer  is  indeed  an  un 
utterable  privilege,  and  particularly  does  one  feel  it  so  when 
in  a  foreign  land,  amid  strangers,  and  far,  far  separated  from 
friends  most  dear.  I  feel  peace  in  committing  you  all  to  the 
care  of  our  gracious,  covenant-keeping  God,  and  I  earnestly 
trust  that  you  are  constantly  commending  me  to  His  grace. 
Oh,  how  I  do  long,  long  to  hear  from  you ;  my  heart  almost 
weeps  with  the  intensity  of  its  desires.  But  I  must  quiet  them, 
for  I  shall  not  probably  get  any  intelligence  from  either  dear 
George  or  yourselves  till  I  arrive  at  Malaga. 

Mr.  Tressera's  attention  and  kindness  I  have  found  exceed 
ingly  valuable,  of  the  house  of  Zumaran  and  Tressera,  to  whom 
I  had  letters  of  introduction  from  the  Messrs  Huelin,  of 
Malaga. 

My  knowledge  of  the  Spanish  language  is  a  source  of  much 
pleasure,  and  the  practice  I  have  had  here  in  speaking,  has 
been  very  useful  in  increasing  my  fluency. 

I  now  expect  to  embark,  in  the  course  of  six  or  eight  days, 
for  Cadiz,  in  the  Sardinian  brig  "  Trafalgar."  I  was  yester 
day  off  on  board  to  see  her.  She  is  a  good  strong  vessel,  and 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEE,  M.D.         257 

a  very  fast  sailer,  making  the  passage  between  here  and  Cadiz 
generally  in  forty  or  forty-five  days.  The  accommodations 
are  tolerable.  I  had  expected  to  go  in  the  "  Eola,"  a  fine 
ship  with  excellent  accommodations,  from  Montevideo ;  but 
hides  being  scarce,  she  will  not  probably  go  under  six  or  eight 
weeks,  and  this  is  the  only  vessel  from  either  place,  that  will 
probably  go  for  many  weeks.  There  will  be  three  other 
passengers  beside  myself. 

I  am  collecting  materials  in  my  journal,  for  a  series  of  letters 
for  the  Observer,  from  Montevideo  and  Buenos  Ayres,  and  if 
the  Lord  permit,  I  shall  prepare  them  upon  the  voyage.  But 
as  I  have  said  before,  this  will  depend  upon  the  state  of  my 
health.  "  If  the  Lord  permit"  includes  all,  and  it  is  a  phrase 
we  are  never  safe  in  omitting. 

Thursday,  Feb.  8th,  1837. 

DEAR  AND  HONORED  MOTHER. — Since  I  commenced  the 
accompanying  sheet  to  my  dear  sister,  a  change  has  taken 
place  in  my  plans,  though  they  were  not  previously  altogether 
fixed,  of  which  in  an  additional  sheet,  by  the  same  opportunity, 
I  hasten  now  to  give  you  the  details.  May  your  own  judgment 
approve  my  decision.  For  my  own  part,  I  think  I  can  truly  say 
that  I  have  not  made  it  without  sincere,  fervent  prayer  for 
Divine  direction.  Since  writing  to  E.  I  have  ascertained  from 
the  captain  of  the  "  Trafalgar"  that  all  the  berths,  four  in 
number,  in  the  principal  cabin  of  his  vessel,  are  absolutely  en 
gaged  to  the  other  passengers,  and  the  only  place  of  accommo 
dation  that  remains  is  a  small  state-room,  but  for  which  he  asks 
the  enormous  price  of  $200  if  I  occupy  it  alone.  I  have  tried 
to  make  an  arrangement  with  some  other  passengers  to  occupy 
part  of  it  with  me,  but  have  not  been  able  ;  and,  moreover,  it 
would  not  be  very  agreeable.  As  there  is  a  family  that  wish 
to  go,  and  in  case  I  do  not  take  it,  would  occupy  it  and  pay 
$300  or  more,  the  captain  would  not  take  any  less  than 
$200  to  carry  me.  This  morning  I  had  to  give  my  final 


258  MEMOKIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

answer  to  the  captain,  whether  to  go  or  not,  in  order  that  he 
might  engage  with  the  other  passengers  ;  and  it  has  been,  con 
sidering  all  circumstances,  best  to  wait  for  the  "  Eola"  which 
goes  about  the  first  of  April.  Many  things  have  influenced 
me  to  this  decision  ;  one  is  the  great  improvement  in  my 
health,  since  I  have  been  here,  and  which  may  be  increased 
by  a  few  weeks  longer  residence  ;  another,  the  advice  of  several 
persons  of  judgement.  The  weather  continues  warm  and 
pleasant  here  till  the  middle  of  April. 

My  mind  has  been  greatly  perplexed  in  deciding,  dear 
Mother,  but  I  trust  I  may  have  determined  for  the  best.  O, 
may  the  Lord  be  with  me,  and  direct  and  guide  me  in  all  my 
ways.  Commit  me,  dear  Mother,  to  Him,  and  may  we  all  en 
joy  the  blessed  light  of  his  countenance.  Do  not  be  too  anxious 
about  me  ;  I  shall  write  again  in  a  few  days. 


Buenos  Ayres,  Saturday  afternoon,  Feb.  l(Wz,  1S38. 
DEAR  AND  HONORED  MOTHER.  —  On  the  8th  instant, 
I  sent  a  long  letter  to  dear  E.  with  an  additional  sheet 
to  yourself,  by  the  barque  "  Chalcedony"  for  Boston,  the 
latter  communicating  to  you  the  decision  I  had  then  come 
to,  of  remaining  here  some  weeks  longer.  I  was  most  sadly, 
sadly  perplexed  on  the  day  I  wrote  to  you,  as  to  what  was  the 
best  course  to  pursue,  but  concluded  in  the  morning,  before 
closing  my  letter,  that  it  would  be  better  on  many  accounts  to 
wait  for  the  "  Eola."  This  intention  I  am  now  exceedingly 
sorry  for  having  announced  to  you,  as  I  fear  it  may  give  you 
anxiety,  and  you  may  think  me  vacillating  and  deficient  in 
judgment,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  have  returned  to  my  original 
determination,  and  expect  to  embark  on  Tuesday  the  14th,  in 
the  "  Trafalgar"  for  Cadiz.  I  spent  truly  a  miserable  day  of 
suspense,  on  Thursday  ;  and  in  the  evening,  home-sick  and 
desponding,  I  went  up  to  the  house  of  the  consignee  of  the 
vessel  to  see  if  the  state-room  was  actually  engaged,  though 
with  little  hope  to  the  contrary. 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVEB,    M.D.  259 

To  my  joy  I  found  it  was  still  at  my  disposal,  and  that  I 
had  till  ten  o'clock  the  next  day,  to  decide  whether  I 
would  take  it.  I  have  accordingly  decided  that,  considering 
all  things,  I  had  best  improve  this  opportunity,  as  it  is  so  un 
certain  when  another  vessel  goes.  The  price  of  passage  is 
large,  and  I  feel  a  great  reluctance  to  paying  it,  but  the  un 
certainty  in  which  I  should  remain,  and  the  prolonged  period 
of  deprivation  from  news,  either  of  yourselves  or  dear  George, 
it  having  been  all  along  my  original  determination  to  embark 
about  this  time,  I  have  concluded  on  the  whole  that  it  was  best 
even  to  pay  $200,  rather  than  remain  so  many  weeks  longer  in 
a  strange  place,  where  I  have  no  particular  friend,  or  uncle,  as 
in  Malaga.  Still  I  have  hardly  known  what  to  do,  and  it  has 
been  a  difficult  case  to  decide.  The  evident  improvement  in 
my  health,  as  I  mentioned  before,  seemed  to  favor  my  remain 
ing  ;  but  my  heart  is  really  sick,  with  longing  for  news 
from  those  I  love.  I  think  since  I  left  home,  I  have  not  felt 
so  home-sick  as  during  the  two  or  three  last  days,  since  I  found 
my  only  course  was  to  go  in  this  vessel,  and  pay  $200,  or 
wait  six  or  eight  weeks  longer  for  another.  How  I  have 
longed  for  some  dear  friend  or  brother  with  whom  to  advise  ! 
My  earnest  desire  to  see  and  hear  from  dear  Greorge  has  also 
influenced  me  in  reversing  my  decision  ;  and  although  it  is 
so  uncertain  when  I  may  have  the  sweet  pleasure  of  the 
former,  yet  if  I  am  on  the  same  continent  with  him  it  will  be 
a  comfort. 

All  things  considered,  I  think  it  is  a  Providential  circum 
stance  that  the  state-room  was  not  engaged  ;  Providential  I  say, 
for  it  is  a  relief  to  think  that  all  our  movements,  however 
trivial  they  may  seem,  are  directed  by  a  superior  power, 
rather  than  the  mere  casualties  of  chance  ;  the  most  im 
portant  thing  is  not  to  misinterpret  the  Lord's  providence 
by  our  own  errors  in  judgment.  If  I  had  come  here  with 
any  idea  of  stopping,  in  case  the  climate  should  agree  with 
me,  it  then  might  have  been  best  to  remain,  and  wait  a 


260  MEMORIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

favorable  opportunity  to  go  to  Mendoza,  and  give  the  climate 
a  fair  trial.  The  air  is  said  to  be  impregnated  with  saltpetre, 
and  for  this  reason  I  can  imagine  it  favorable  to  the  asthma, 
for  I  have  used  the  remedy  of  paper  soaked  in  saltpetre, 
perhaps  with  greater  effect  than  ever,  since  I  have  been  in 
this  city,  apparently,  through  its  instrumentality,  avoiding 
several  attacks. 

Tuesday ',  Feb.  13th. — Yesterday  I  had  the  unexpected  de 
light  of  receiving  a  letter  from  dear  George,  dated  Havre, 
Oct.  28th  and  29th.  If  I  had  received  it  last  week  I  should 
not  have  thought  of  leaving  so  soon,  as  I  now  see  that  his 
plans  are  very  uncertain,  and  it  is  also  uncertain  whether  I 
meet  him  in  Malaga  at  all.  But  I  have  been  harassed  and 
perplexed  beyond  measure.  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have 
thought  of  changing  my  decision  to  remain  ;  I  fear  it  was 
hasty,  but  0,  may  the  Lord  in  his  infinite  mercy  make 
it  all  work  out  my  best  good.  The  "  Hamet"  sails  this  after 
noon.  If  1  can,  I  will  drop  you  a  line  after  I  get  on  board,  by 
the  pilot,  to  be  sent  by  the  first  opportunity.  I  fear  you  will 
think  me  very  fluctuating  and,  perhaps,  injudicious,  but  you 
will,  in  some  measure,  appreciate  my  circumstances. 

The  captain  is  a  Genoese,  but  speaks  Spanish  perfectly,  and 
he  assures  me,  as  well  as  the  consignee,  that  every  thing  in  his 
power  shall  be  done  to  make  me  comfortable.  To  day  I  em 
bark  my  baggage,  and  to-morrow  we  expect  to  sail.  The 
thing  is  now  decided  beyond  repeal,  and  I  will  try  to  feel 
that  it  is  for  the  best.  My  heart  is  burdened  with  the  fear 
that  I  have  acted  foolishly,  but  I  will  try  to  cast  all  my  care 
upon  the  Lord,  knowing  that  he  can  and  will  sustain  me.  May 
you  all  at  home  do  the  same  in  regard  to  me.  I,  perhaps, 
yielded  too  quickly  to  moments  of  despondency  and  home 
sickness,  but  the  unhappiness  I  felt  after  my  first  decision  was 
almost  more  than  I  could  endure. 

His  passage-money  was  accordingly  paid,  and  em 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          261 

barkation  effected  on  board  the  Trafalgar,  but  in  a 
state  of  mental  perplexity  and  indecision,  as  may  be 
gathered  from  what  has  gone  before,  and  as  we  after 
ward  learned  from  his  own  lips,  little  short  of  w^hat 
often  precedes  insanity.  In  this  foreign  brig,  its 
strange  captain  and  passengers,  and  all  its  fixtures  for 
a  long  voyage,  he  found  nothing  at  that  time  home 
like  or  soothing,  or  capable  of  ministering  to  a  mind 
diseased  as  his,  for  the  time  being,  had  become. 

Almost  all  the  ensuing  night  he  paced  the  deck, 
nursing  and  brooding  over  the  conviction  that  he  had 
done  wrong  to  embark,  and  tempted,  it  would  seem, 
by  the  very  Prince  of  Evil,  wThom  God  allowed  to 
deal  with  him  for  the  time,  to  conclude,  if  he  went  in 
that  brig,  it  would  be  the  last  of  him.  The  next 
morning,  harassed  beyond  expression,  and  in  a  state 
of  excitement  which  may  be  imagined  after  the  dis 
tress  of  a  sleepless  night,  and  with  no  friend  to  com 
pose  or  advise  him,  when  the  pilot  came  to  leave,  he 
proposed  leaving  with  him,  and  returning  to  Buenos 
Ayres,  yet  hoping  secretly,  he  said,  that  he  would 
absolutely  refuse,  and  thus  shut  him  up  to  the  neces- 
sity  of  prosecuting  the  voyage.  But  no  strenuous  op 
position  being  made  to  this  by  the  captain,  who  was 
sure  of  his  fare,  nor  by  the  other  passengers,  who 
would  have  his  room,  he  was  wrongly  allowed  to 
go. 

But,  no  sooner  was  he  cut  loose  irrecoverably 
from  the  Trafalgar,  and  alone  with  the  pilots  many 
miles  from  land,  on  his  way  back  to  a  place  which 
he  had  honorably  left,  than  his  sensitive  mind  fell 


262  MEMORIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

into  a  morbid  state  of  self-upbraiding  regret,  and 
painful  conviction  that  his  last  error  was  worse  than 
the  first,  and  that  nothing  now  remained  for  him 
but  despair.  In  this  condition,  upon  his  return  to  the 
city,  he  could  neither  write  to  his  friends,  nor  in  his 
Journal,  and,  what  was  worse,  he  seemed  to  himself 
forsaken  of  his  Saviour,  and  he  could  neither  pray  nor 
read  the  Word  with  a  ray  of  comfort,  nor  could  he 
appropriate  its  promises  to  his  own  case. 

This  anguish  of  mind,  together  with  the  exposure 
by  night  in  the  pilot-boat,  intermission  of  sleep,  and 
all  he  had  passed  through,  re-acted  most  injuriously 
upon  his  bodily  health,  so  as  to  bring  on  a  very  severe 
attack  of  his  malady,  by  which  he  was  entirely  pros 
trated  for  several  w^eeks,  and  confined  to  his  lodgings. 
A  black  cloud  of  despondency  now  settled  upon  him 
heavy  and  low,  through  which  it  was  many  months 
before  he  could  see  the  sun. 

"  No  voice  Divine  the  storm  allayed — 
No  light  propitious  shone." 

But  God  mercifully  kept  him  from  extremities  :  angels 
and  ministers  of  grace,  all  unknown  to  himself,  were 
round  aBout  him,  through  whose  help  he  held  fast  his 
integrity,  and  would  not  let  it  go.  Prayer  was  made 
for  him  without  ceasing,  by  a  praying  circle  at  home, 
whose  anxieties  were  intense,  but  their  faith  strong  in 
behalf  of  the  wanderer  as  a  child  of  God. 

After  waiting  two  months  in  vain  at  Buenos  Ay  res 
for  a  vessel  to  Old  Spain,  he  proceeded  to  Montevideo, 
with  the  hope  of  finding  an  opportunity  thence.  But 
there  offered  none  until  the  fourteenth  of  June,  1838, 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          263 

in  the  Spanish  brig  Henrique,  bound  for  Malaga.  In. 
this  he  took  passage,  the  captain  being  a  Genoese, 
who  seems  to  have  treated  him  with  great  kindness. 
After  a  tedious  voyage  of  eighty-four  days,  beneficial, 
however,  to  his  health,  the  snowy  tops  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  and  the  familiar  vine-clad  mountains  of 
Malaga,  gladdened  his  sight.  He  was  welcomed  again, 
almost  as  alive  from  the  dead,  by  the  Consul,  his 
Uncle,  then  in  feeble  health.  Nor  was  it  long  that  he 
survived  the  return  of  his  nephew,  departing  this  life 
at  Barcelona,  wrhither  he  had  gone  to  recruit,  on  the 
twelfth  of  November,  and  being  interred  at  Malaga, 
in  the  English  Cemetery,  on  the  thirtieth,  writh  distin 
guished  honor,  lamented  especially  by  the  poor,  and 
his  memory  cherished  by  a  large  circle  of  American, 
English,  and  Spanish  friends. 

In  April  of  the  following  spring,  through  the  good 
Providence  of  God,  his  eldest  brother  reached  Malaga 
from  the  East,  and  there  the  brothers  embraced  after 
their  long  and  various  travel,  and  chequered  experi 
ence,  by  sea  and  by  land.  The  happy  effect  of  this 
Providential  meeting  upon  the  younger,  is  thus  alluded 
to  in  a  letter  to  his  Mother,  of  date,  Malaga,  April 
5th,  1839  : 

Dear  George  has  already  written  you,  announcing  his  safe 
arrival  here,  and  our  delightful  meeting  after  two  years'  pain 
ful  separation.  How  great  is  our  cause  for  gratitude  in  being 
permitted  to  meet  each  other  in  circumstances  of  so  much 
health  and  happiness  !  George  is  overjoyed  and  astonished  to 
find  me  so  greatly  improved  in  health  and  general  appearance  ; 
and  I  am  equally  delighted  to  find  him  perfectly  well  and  *'  travel- 


264:  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

stained,"  with  a  beard  of  so  truly  an  Oriental  length  as 
would  astonish  the  natives  at  home.  I  think,  could  he 
drop  down  among  you  just  as  he  is,  you  would,  for  a  moment, 
be  almost  puzzled  to  recognize  him.  He  is  in  excellent 
spirits  ;  and  you  have  reason  to  look  forward  to  the  return 
of  your  beloved  sons  with  pleasing  anticipations,  and  hopes 
that,  I  trust,  will  be  fully  realized,  after  so  many  months  of 
distressing  anxiety  and  disappointment  on  our  account. 

Dear  George's  arrival  has  greatly  cheered  me,  and  I  am 
looking  forward  to  niy  return  with  him  with  joyful  antici 
pations.  How  delightful  will  it  be  to  your  maternal  heart, 
again  to  meet  your  long  absent  sons,  and  to  dear  E.  and  H., 
their  beloved  brothers.  My  health  is  vastly  improved.  I 
have  grown  several  inches  in  stature,  and  appear  much 
stronger  and  stouter  than  before ;  still  I  have  occasional  at 
tacks  of  asthma,  though  I  have  no  doubt  that,  by  the  bless 
ing  of  God,  I  may  get  entirely  over  it.  The  weather  here  is 
indescribably  delightful.  We  surely  have  reason  to  bless  the 
Lord  for  his  abundant  goodness,  and  to  trust  him  in  regard 
to  the  future.  Oh,  that  we  truly  felt  his  loving-kind 
ness. 

I  often  feel  distressed  when  I  think  of  all  you  have  suffered 
on  my  account,  but  hope  you  may  be  enabled  to  forget  it 
when  you  are  again  permitted  to  see  me.  Unutterable  love 
to  dear  E.  and  H.  Kind  remembrances  to  all  our  Aunts  and 
Cousins.  May  our  letters  have  a  quick  passage,  and  soon 
cheer  your  hearts  by  their  grateful  news. 

Ever  your  most  dutiful  and  affectionate  son, 

NATHANIEL. 

Their  movements,  after  this,  up  to  their  return  to 
America,  and  quiet  domestication  in  the  home  of 
their  childhood,  are  thus  noted  in  one  of  the  earliest 
entries  in  the  Journal  upon  its  resumption  at  Hallo- 
well  : 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEB,  M.D.          265 

July  First,  Monday,  1839. — Again  permitted  yesterday  to 
enter  into  the  courts  of  the  Lord's  house,  and  to  hear  the 
voice  of  them  that  publish  glad  tidings  of  good,  from  the 
sacred  pulpit  where  the  Gospel's  silver  trumpet  first  reached 
my  ears.  Thanks  be  to  God  that  it  has  kept  sounding  on 
while  I  have  been  far  away,  and  that  I  have  come  back  again 
to  hear  it  from  my  long  wanderings.  Oh,  the  goodness  and 
forbearance  of  God  while  I  have  been  away  !  In  the  after 
noon  I  accompanied  my  dear  brother  George  (with  whom  I 
have  been  in  various  circumstances  since  the  first  of 
April)  to  Augusta,  where  I  heard,  him  preach.  We  were 
permitted  to  meet  at  Malaga  the  first  of  April.  On  the 
twentieth  we  embarked  for  Philadelphia,  in  the  brig  Echo, 
where  we  arrived  on  the  twenty-fourth  of  May,  after  a 
pleasant  voyage  of  thirty-four  days.  We  tarried  till  the 
fourth  of  June  in  that  pleasant  city,  and  then  left  for 
New  York,  where  we  remained  till  the  nineteenth,  arriving 
on  the  twenty-second  at  our  beloved  home.  How  good  and 
kind  has  the  Lord  been  in  all  his  dealings  to  us  as  a  family  ; 
but,  oh,  how  utterly  unworthy — how  wickedly  perverse  and 
wandering  does  my  course  appear  the  last  year.  But  may  I 
not  now  return,  and  find  him  whom  my  soul  loveth. 

"  Cheer  up,  my  soul,  there  is  a  mercy^seat 

Sprinkled  with  blood,  where  Jesus  answers  prayer ; 
There  humbly  cast  thyself  beneath  his  feet, 

For  never  needy  sinner  perished  there- 
Be  thou  my  refuge,  Lord — my  hiding-place  ; 

I  know  no  force  can  tear  me  from  thy  side  ; 
Unmoved  I  then  may  all  accusers  face, 

And  answer  every  charge  with  '  Jesus  died/  J; 

July  Fourth,  Thursday  Afternoon. — Through  the  Lord's 
mercy  I  am  spared  to  behold  the  return  of  a.n  other  anniver 
sary  of  our  National  Independence.  Last  year  I  was  tossing 
on  the  ocean  in  a  Spanish  brig,  between  Montevideo  and 


266  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

3Ialaga.  Two  years  ago  I  was  comfortably  situated  at 
Malaga,  under  the  hospitable  roof  of  my  noble  Uncle, 
now  numbered  with  the  dead.  Four  years  ago  yesterday, 
I  embarked  with  dear  Henry  at  New  York,  for  Gibraltar 
and  Malaga.  Since  then  I  have  crossed  the  ocean  six  times, 
and  passed  through  innumerable  dangers,  seen  and  unseen, 
but  through  the  kind  Providence  of  God,  have  been  pre 
served  from  any  serious  accident.  To-day  I  am  again  under 
my  native  roof,  and  in  vastly  better  health  than  three  years 
since. 

The  day  has  been  celebrated  here  in  a  truly  delightful  man 
ner.  All  the  children  of  the  different  Sabbath  Schools  were 
united  at  the  Church  of  the  South  Parish,  to  see  a  painting 
there  exhibited,  called  "  The  Opening  of  the  Fifth  Seal," 
and  hear  -an  explanation  of  its  different  parts.  They  then 
were  formed  into  a  procession,  and  walked  to  the  grounds  of 
R.  K.  Page,  Esq.,  where  a  collation  of  cake,  fruit,  etc.,  was 
provided  for  the  children  upon  long  tables  spread  under  the 
trees.  Before  they  partook  of  the  collation,  a  short  address 
was  made  to  them  by  my  beloved  brother  George,  contrasting 
their  delightful  privileges  with  the  sad,  unhappy  state  of  the 
poor  children  he  had  seen  in  Egypt,  Turkey,  and  other  coun 
tries  not  blessed  with  the  benign  influences  of  Sabbath 
Schools.  Singing  and  prayer  were  -mingled  in  the  exercises, 
and  the  children  seemed  highly  delighted.  May  the  time  be 
hastened  when  all  the  children  of  the  earth  shall  be  gathered 
into  Sabbath  Schools,  and  all  become  the  lambs  of  Christ's 
flock. 

Hallow  ell  ^  July  18th,  1839. — Through  the  Lord's  great 
goodness  our  family  is  now  united  at  home  ;  not  one  of  its  be 
loved  inmates  being  absent.  Wanderers  as  we  have  been,  this 
has  not  occurred  before  for  five  years.  How  various  have 
been  our  travels  and  experiences  since  we  all  thus  met  at 
our  beloved  home  ;  and  how  great  the  loving  kindness  of  our 
Covenant  Grod  toward  us  !  May  we  all  duly  appreciate  it.  I 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          267 

must  feel  more  the  preciousness  of  time  ;   once  past  it  never 
returns  ;  the  moment  that  is  lost  is  lost  for  ever. 

It  now  devolved  upon  him  to  choose  a  profession  for 
life,  and  for  obvious  reasons  he  was  not  long  in  decid 
ing  upon  that  of  medicine,  which  held  out  to  him 
more  inducements  than  any  other  line  of  employment 
which  he  could  pursue.  His  entrance  upon  profes 
sional  study  is  thus  playfully  made  known  to  his 
brother  George,  in  a  letter  of  date,  November  13th, 
1839. 

Prepare  for  the  big  announcement — I  AM  NOW  A  DISCIPLE 
OF  ESCULAPIUS — De  facto,  recte  atque  ordine.  I  have  com 
menced  the  study  of  a  profession.  Friday,  Nov.  8th,  was  "the 
great,  the  eventful  day,"  when  this  new  era  in  my  life  began. 
On  the  afternoon  of  that  day,  I  spent  an  hour  in  pleasant 
conversation  with  Dr.  Hubbard  at  his  office,  and  after  much 
preliminary  instruction  and  advice  on  his  part,  I  requested 
him  to  consider  me  from  that  time  a  student  under  his  care  ; 
to  which  he  consented,  and  gave  me  the  first  book  to  study  in 
my  new  profession  of  medicine,  u  An  Introduction  to  the 
Study  of  Human  Anatomy,"  by  James  Paxton.  I  took  hold 
that  very  evening,  have  read  some  every  day  since,  and  am 
becoming  much  interested  in  this  important  science. 

I  have  now  the  satisfaction  in  pursuing  my  studies,  of  feel 
ing  that  they  have  some  certain  end  in  view,  an  honorable  pro 
fession  ;  a  satisfaction  which  I  have  not  before  had  during 
the  eleven  years  of  my  ill-health,  for  in  the  desultory  studios 
at  various  times  undertaken  before,  I  have  ever  felt  utterly 
uncertain  of  their  final  issue.  I  began  on  the  fourth  instant, 
the  "  Conversations  in  Chemistry,"  by  Joyce,  to  recite  to  E., 
which  will  be  pleasant  to  us  both  ;  and  we  mean  to  con 
tinue  it.  1  also  began  my  Latin  grammar,  and  am  reading 
attentively  every  word  of  it.  It  revives  my  knowledge  of 


268  MEMORIALS   OF   THE    LIFE 

the  Latin  tongue,  and  it  is  exceedingly  pleasant  to  trace 
out  in  it  the  etymology  of  words  in  our  own  language, 
and  to  observe  also  the  innumerable  similarities  to  and  deriva 
tions  from  it,  which  are  contained  in  the  Spanish.  I  intend  to 
begin  "  Si  Dios  Quiere,"  a  Mental  Arithmetic,  and  to  go 
through  with  it,  reciting  to  E.  I  long  daily  for  a  bettor  know 
ledge  of  Mathematics,  and  feel  myself  sadly  deficient  in  re 
gard  to  them.  But  to  all  my  intentions  about  my  studies,  I 
must  add  a  Latin  "  Deo  Volente,"  or  the  Spanish  Si  Dios 
Quiere,  or  in  our  own  language  your  favorite  phrase,  "  If  the 
Lord  permit."  The  execution  of  them  all  will  depend  upon 
my  health,  which,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  has  been  better 
since  you  left  us,  than  it  has  since  our  arrival  in  this  country. 
The  month  of  October  has  been  with  us  uninterruptedly  fine, 
and  this  has  had  a  delightful  effect  on  my  health. 

The  private  Journal,  henceforth,  supplies  occasional 
notices  of  progress  in  study,  growth  in  grace,  and 
other  items  of  personal  history.  His  medical  Precep 
tor  and  friend  was  Dr.  John  Hubbard  of  Hallowell, 
then,  by  general  consent,  foremost  in  his  profession,  and 
now  the  Honorable  Governor  of  Maine.  Under  his 
tuition  and  hints,  and  in  the  observance  of  his  practice, 
his  new  studies  were  pursued  at  home  with  great  zest 
and  profit. 

Ilallowdl,  March  29^,  1840. — My  twenty-fourth  birth 
day.  Through  the  unspeakable  mercy  of  God,  I  am 
allowed  to  commence  another  year,  in  much  better  health, 
and  happier  circumstances  than  I  was  the  last,  which  dawned 
upon  me  alone  and  unhappy,  upon  a  foreign  shore,  far  from 
the  dear  relations  and  friends,  whose  sweet  society  I  am  now 
permitted  to  enjoy ;  in  a  Catholic  country  too,  far  removed 
from  the  beneficial  influences  of  Christian  example,  Sabbaths 
and  sanctuary  privileges,  which  I  am  now  permitted  to  share 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVER,    H.D.  269 

in  dear  Protostcant  America.  Truly  the  Lord's  goodness  is 
unspeakable ;  0,  that  I  had  a  heart  rightly  to  appreciate  it, 
and  may  my  future  life  show  -that  I  feel  the  obligations  to 
love  and  gratitude,  under  which  I  lie  to  Him. 

Instead  of  being  as  I  have  been  for  many  years  past, 
without  chart  or  compass,  in  regard  to  my  reading  and 
studies,  that  is  with  no  profession  or  pursuit  in  life,  to  which  I 
could  look  forward  as  their  ultimate  end  and  object,  I  have 
now  a  definite  one,  the  honorable  science  and  art  of  healing  the 
physical  infirmities  of  my  follow  creatures.  May  I,  by  dili 
gence  and  energy  in  my  studies,  and  the  superadded  blessing 
of  God,  who  alone  can  succeed  our  best  efforts,  become  eminent 
in  the  profession,  and  the  instrument  in  relieving  much  human 
suffering.  May  the  immortal  spirit  not  be  forgotten  by  me  in 
administering  to  the  body,  but  may  I  be  enabled  to  direct 
many  to  the  great  Physician  of  souls,  for  forgiveness  and 
spiritual  healing, 

New  York  City,  November  22nd,  1840. — Here  I  enter 
another  stage  in  my  new  enterprise,  attending  a  course  of  medical 
lectures  at  the  College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons,  in  this 
City.  I  attend  three  lectures  every  day  except  Saturday,  and 
that  day  two.  Attendance  upon  these,  together  with  taking  a 
synopsis  of  them,  occupies  me  fully.  I  find  it  good  to  be 
busy,  and  hope  this  winter  will  be  a  profitable  one,  both  to 
mind  and  heart.  I  attended  divine  service  this  morning  at 
the  Brick  Church,  Dr.  Spring's.  The  Lord's  Supper  was 
celebrated,  and  I  partook  in  that  most  significant  service,  I 
hope  with  some  profit  to  my  soul.  0,  that  I  might  ever  bear 
about  with  me  a  deep  sense  of  Jesus'  dying  love,  and  hatred 
of  that  evil  and  bitter  thing,  sin,  which  was  the  cause  of  his 
sufferings  and  death. 

New  York,  March  29th,  1841. — Monday  Evening.  My 
twenty-fifth  birth-day.  This  day  completes  one  quarter  of  a 
century  of  my  earthly  existence.  One  quarter  of  a  century  ! 
Nearly  one-third  of  the  period  assigned  by  David,  as  ttie  term 


270  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

of  man's  career  on  earth,  should  he  "  by  reason  of  strength," 
live  to  fulfil  it.  The  last  year  has  been  crowded  with  mercies 
from  the  hand  of  God  ;  but,  on  my  part  alas  !  with  too  many 
wanderings  and  backslidings  from  him.  But  I  do  bless  God 
that  I  am  permitted  to  begin  this,  my  26th  year,  with  so  many 
tokens  of  love  and  mercy  from  his  kind  hand.  I  praise  Him 
that  my  health  has  so  greatly  improved,  particularly  since  my 
residence  in  this  city. 

Above  all  I  bless  His  name,  that  at  this  time  He  makes  me 
a  partaker  in  the  blessed  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  which 
the  Allen  Street  congregation,  under  my  dear  brother's  pas 
toral  charge,  is  now  experiencing.  I  have  enjoyed  this  day. 
I  have  made  it  a  day  of  fasting  and  special  prayer,  and  humi 
liation  before  God.  1  have  endeavored  to  look  back  upon  the 
sins  of  my  unconverted  life,  and  the  sins  of  after  years,  and  in 
view  of  all,  anew  have  I  applied  to  Christ  for  pardon  and 
cleansing.  0  precious  Saviour,  wash  away  my  sins  by  faith  in 
thine  atoning  blood  ;  cleanse  me  in  that  blessed  fountain  from 
all  unrighteousness,  and  shed  abroad  in  my  heart  a  delightful 
sense  of  forgiveness  ;  and  0  may  "  I  go  my  way,  and  sin  no 
more  lest  a  worse  thing  befall  me,"  lest  I  grieve  thy  Holy 
Spirit  beyond  the  limit  of  forbearance,  and  His  influences  be 
forever  withdrawn  from  my  soul.  0  Lord  help  me,  by  thine 
almighty  grace,  to  keep  the  following  resolutions,  for  without 
thy  grace  to  aid  me  in  the  fulfilment  of  them,  they  will  be 
worse  than  in  vain. 

First — I  do  resolve  to  live  generally  more  in  accordance  with 
those  high  professions,  and  covenant  obligations,  that  I  have 
made  before  men,  and  entered  into  with  God.  Second — I 
resolve  to  be  more  careful  and  systematic  in  the  improve 
ment  of  my  time.  I  will  strive  constantly  to  feel  its  exceeding 
preciousness,  not  to  fritter  it  away  on  unimportant  trifles  as  I 
am  too  prone  to  do,  but  endeavor  constantly  to  improve  it 
with  a  view  to  my  final  account,  and  my  future  usefulness  in 
the  world.  Third — I  resolve  to  get  up  earlier,  and  to  this 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          271 

end  go  to  bed  earlier  than  I  generally  do.  I  will  allow  my 
self  from  seven  to  eight  hours  to  be  in  bed,  and  no  more,  ex 
cept  when  I  am  sick. 

It  is  easy  to  make  resolutions,  but  it  requires  energy  and 
determination  to  fulfil  them.  Let  me  endeavor  also  to  culti 
vate  decision  of  character ;  when  duty  is  clear,  let  me  be  de 
cided  in  its  performance,  and  decided  in  all  cases  when  that 
quality  of  mind  ought  to  be  brought  into  play.  I  am  too 
procrastinating.  I  will,  by  the  help  of  God,  strive  with  energy 
and  decision  to  overcome  this  wretched,  time-stealing  habit. 
I  will  strive  to  be  punctual  in  the  fulfilment  of  all  my  engage 
ments  and  duties,  and  break  off  with  decision  from  any  thing 
that  may  interfere  with  being  so,  although  it  may  be  in  itself, 
at  a  proper  time,  a  laudable  and  suitable  employment. 

The  Lord  grant  me  all  needed  energy  and  grace  to  keep 
these  resolutions  ;  and  may  he  enable  me  by  that  grace  to  live 
more  to  his  glory  this  year,  than  during  any  year  that  has  yet 
preceded  it. 

The  following  extracts  from  a  letter  of  nearly  the 
same  date  to  his  Sister,  dwell  more  particularly  upon 
the  work  of  grace  then  in  progress,  which  is  alluded 
to  above  : 

I  have  been  anxious  to  secure  the  fervent  prayers  of  you  all 
for  a  continuance  of  the  blessed  out-pouring  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  whose  silent  but  mighty  influences  have  been  evidently 
operating  on  the  immense  congregations,  that  have  assembled 
from  evening  to  evening  in  dear  George's  church,  for  the  last 
week  or  more,  to  hear  the  eloquent,  soul- moving  appeals  of 
Rev.  Mr.  Kirk.  It  is,  I  think,  about  a  week  since  those  de 
siring  it  were  invited  after  the  sermon  in  the  evening,  to 
retire  to  the  lecture-room  under  the  church,  to  converse  upon 
their  immortal  interests.  The  first  evening  there  were 
twenty-five  or  thirty  :  there  are  now  upwards  of  one  hundred. 


272  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

Christians,  at  the  same  time,  are  invited  to  remain  in  the 
church  above,  and  spend  an  half  hour  in  prayer  for  the  in 
quirers  ;  and  they  are  truly  precious  prayer-meetings — 
the  most  so,  I  think,  that  I  ever  attended.  The  prayers 
are  short,  and  generally  to  the  point,  and  they  follow  each 
other  in  fervent  succession,  now  and  then-  interspersed  with  a 
verse  of  some  sweet  hymn,  as  "  Mercy,  oh,  thou  Son  of 
David."  Christians  seem  to  feel  their  responsibilities, 
and  to  have  their  graces  very  much  quickened.  Christians 
and  unconverted  persons  come  from  far  and  wide  to  hear  Mr. 
Kirk,  and  very  many  of  the  inquirers  are  from  other  congre 
gations,  so  that  we  may  hope  the  blessed  influences  of  the 
Spirit  may  be  carried  into  other  churches  ;  and,  oh  that  every 
part  of  this  great  city  might  become  one  Pentecostal  scene,  and 
that  thousands  of  its  depraved  and  degraded,  as  well  as  of  its 
moral  and  refined  inhabitants,  might  be  brought  to  the  feet 
of  Jesus,  and  transformed  and  elevated  by  the  power  of  his 
love. 

G-eorge  has  referred  to  my  great  improvement  in  health, 
but  I  feel  that  I  too  should  speak  of  it  with  gratitude,  and 
still  more  particularly.  Would  that  I  might  keep  as  well  as 
I  am  now,  and  grow  better  in  the  same  proportion  that  I  have 
done  for  the  last  few  weeks,  until  my  arrival  at  home.  I 
should  then  be  able  to  show  you  in  propria  persona,  the  great 
improvement  that  would  have  taken  place  in  my  physical 
frame.  Perhaps,  by  the  continued  blessing  of  God,  I  may  be 
able  to  present  in  my  outward  man  this  improvement,  but 
painful  past  experience  teaches  me  to  be  wary  of  indulging 
too  freely  in  sanguine  expectations.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is 
surely  a  great  mercy  to  be  saved  for  two  months  from  an 
attack  of  my  distressing  malady.  I  feel  it  to  be  also  a 
blessing  to  my  own  soul  that  I  am  permitted  to  be  a  sharer  in 
this  precious  revival.  The  Lord  grant  I  may  now  receive 
an  impulse,  that  I  shall  feel  the  blessedness  of,  through  all  my 
Christian  life. 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          273 

Hallowell,  Sabbath  Afternoon,  Sept.  5th,  1841. — Again  at 
my  quiet,  beloved  home,  surrounded  with  mercies,  though  in 
feeble  health.  I  left  New  York  in  company  with  my  beloved 
Sister,  on  the  27th  of  May,  and  having  made  several  pleasant 
visits  with  kind  friends  on  the  way,  we  at  length  arrived  at 
home  on  the  16th  of  June,  where  I  have  been  ever  since, 
most  of  the  time,  indeed  all  the  time  suffering  more  or  less 
from  my  distressing  malady.  It  is  more  plainly  evident  than 
ever,  that  the  climate  of  this  region  does  not  agree  with 
me,  and  perhaps  this  is  the  last  summer  I  shall  ever  spend 
here.  I  was  attacked  with  asthma  the  day  after  my  return, 
and  have  not  been  free  from  it  since,  though  not  violently 
sick  the  whole  time,  but  generally  feeble 

I  enjoyed  the  pleasure  and  profit  of  dear  brother  Henry's 
society  for  nearly  a  month  after  my  return  ;  and  we 
drew  up,  and  entered  into,  some  good  resolutions  together, 
which,  I  hope,  will  be  for  our  everlasting  benefit.  I  think  I 
have  felt  an  increase  of  spiritual  strength  since  forming  these 
resolutions  ;  and  may  the  Lord  grant  me  grace  to  keep  them 
faithfully.  To-day  has  been  communion  Sabbath  ;  but  on 
account  of  the  weather,  I  have  not  been  out.  Have  spent 
the  day  in  reading  and  prayer.  In  a  little  more  than  three 
weeks  from  this  time,  I  expect  to  leave  for  New  York,  to  at 
tend  another  season  of  medical  lectures  in  that  city,  and  be 
with  my  dear  brother  Greorge. 

New  York,  January  23rd,  1842. — Another  year  has  com 
menced  its  rapid  course,  and  finds  me  in  much  the  same  cir 
cumstances  as  the  last,  and  with  my  health  vastly  improved 
since  I  left  Hallowell  on  the  29th  of  September.  J  arn 
attending  a  complete  course  of  lectures — those  of  seven  pro 
fessors — so  that  my  time  is  fully  occupied. 

This  volume  of  my  Journal,  which  now  closes,  was  com 
menced  April  3rd,  1836,  at  New  Orleans.  How  various 
have  been  the  vicissitudes  and  trials  through  which  I  have 
passed  since  that  time  !  How  many  dangers  preserved  from  ! 


274:  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

how  much  suffering  supported  under  !  But  in  all,  the  tender 
mercies,  the  loving-kindness,  the  infinite  forbearance  of  my 
heavenly  Father,  have  predominated  ;  and  it  is  only  through 
the  continued  exercise  of  his  watchful  love  that  I  ana  per 
mitted  to  make  this  record.  Having  obtained  help  of  him, 
I  am  spared  to  begin  another  year.  May  I  be  prepar 
ed,  oh  Lord,  for  all  that  it  may  develop,  and  by  thy  grace 
be  enabled  to  spend  it  in  a  diligent  and  holy  manner. 

In  the  spring  of  this  year,  a  sudden  and  severe  ill 
ness  incurred  in  the  dissecting-room,  and  through  a 
slight  scratch  upon  his  finger,  assuming  the  form  of 
disease  which  the  subject  he  was  dissecting  died  of, 
had  well-nigh  proved  fatal  to  the  student.  It  inter 
rupted  his  prosperous  course  of  lectures  and  study, 
and,  without  doubt,  laid  the  foundation  of  the  organic 
disease  of  the  lungs,  that  afterwards  terminated  his 
mortal  existence.  This  dangerous  illness  is  referred 

O 

to  as  follows,  in  a  letter  to  his  Mother,  of  date,  ISTew 
York,  April  4th,  1842  : 

DEAR  AND  HONORED  MOTHER — Before  this  is  sent, 
George  will  have  despatched  a  letter  mentioning  my  unusual 
sickness,  from  which,  through  the  gracious  blessing  of  God,  I 
am  now  rapidly  convalescent.  By  the  kind  invitation  of  our 
good  friend,  Mrs.  Osborn,  I  left  my  room  on  Saturday,  and 
came  up  here  to  recruit  a  week  under  her  excellent  care  and 
motherly  attention,  which  it  is  truly  grateful  to  me  to  experi 
ence.  A  fortnight  ago,  the  weather  being  mild,  we  were  obliged 
to  have  the  windows  open  while  dissecting,  and  the  currents  of 
air  playing  probably  too  freely  around  my  head,  gave  me  a  very 
severe  cold,  not  causing  so  much  of  asthma  as  usual,  but  a 
sharp  pain  in  my  right  side,  and,  finally,  inflammation  of  the 
lower  lobe  of  the  right  lung.  George  went  at  once  for  Dr. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEKVER,    M.D.  275 

Washington,  and  by  His  blessing  who  alone  can  control  disease, 
upon  the  doctor's  prompt  and  skilful  treatment,  the  inflam 
mation  was  subdued. 

My  friends  have  been  exceedingly  kind.  Among  others, 
Dr.  Linsly  called,  and  kindly  offered  me  his  horse  and 
barouche  as  soon  as  I  should  be  able  to  go  out.  Thus,  though 
I  have  been  smitten  with  the  rod  of  correction,  yet  has  it 
been  in  love,  and  between  every  blow,  mercies  and  goodness 
unspeakable  have  flowed  in  upon  me  from  the  same  Divine 
hand.  "  Bless  the  Lord,  oh  my  soul,  and  forget  not  all  his 
benefits."  Well  may  I  say,  in  view  of  God's  marvellous  good*. 
ness  to  me,  u  How  great  thy  grace  to  me  ;"  and  I  think  I  feel 
sincerely  to  add, 

My  life  which  thou  hast  made  thy  care, 
Lord,  I  devote  to  thee. 

I  do  most  earnestly  hope  that  this  sickness  will  be  for  the 
glory  of  God,  in  making  me  more  mindful  of  my  latter  end,  and 
more  devoted  to  his  blessed  service  than  I  have  hitherto  been. 
The  Lord  has  sent  it  in  mercy  I  have  no  doubt.  I  was  get 
ting  immersed  in  my  studies,  and  perhaps  making  my  plans 
with  too  much  self-dependence,  and  I  needed  some  unusual 
stroke  of  Providence  to  arouse  me  from  my  insensibility,  and 
bring  me  back  to  where  I  ought  always  to  abide — a  prayerful 
posture  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross. 

Dear  George  has  watched  over  me  with  his  accustomed 
tenderness,  and  has  been,  as  you  know  he  always  is,  one  of 
the  best  and  most  attentive  brothers  in  the  world.  I  have  had 
as  yet  not  the  least  check  or  relapse.  The  Lord's  goodness 
is  uninterrupted.  Blessed  be  his  name. 

New  York  City,  First  Avenue,  May  23rd,  1842. 
MY  VERY   DEAR   SISTER — I  was  little    aware   that  while 
writing  my  last  epistle  I  was  sending  a   bomb-shell  into  the 
little  camp,  at  home,  that  was  to  shake  it  to  its  very  centre — 


276  MEMORIALS   OF   THE  LIFE 

scatter  anxiety  and  dismay  through  all  its  precincts,  and 
seriously  disturb  for  a  time  the  intellect  and  judgment  of  at 
least  TWO  of  its  occupants.  I  mean  dear  Mother  and  your 
self;  for  I  must  conclude  that  you  were  laboring  under  a 
state  of  mental  concussion,  or  you  could  not  have  penned  so 
urgent  and  pathetic  an  invitation  for  my  immediate  return  to 
the  asthmatic  region  of  the  Kennebec.  It  is  indeed  painful 
to  say  nay  to  your  urgent  request,  couched,  as  it  is,  in  the 
most  yearning  and  affectionate  terms.  It  is  painful  that  we 
could  not  all  be  together,  with  one  accord  in  one  place,  form 
ing  one  happy  family,  enjoying  each  other's  society  without 
interruption  and  without  separation.  But  this  we  could  not 
expect,  and  it  is  what  few  families  experience. 

I  have  not  forgotten,  I  can  assure  you,  the  severe  trial  and 
long  protracted  sufferings  that  I  was  called  to  endure  last  sum 
mer,  while  on  my  otherwise  pleasant  and  delightful  visit  at 
home.  Those  sufferings,  I  have,  alas !  too  much  reason  to 
know,  would  be  again  renewed  with  equal  severity,  were  I  to 
attempt  the  experiment  again.  A  few  weeks,  when  the  last 
of  July  or  first  of  August  shall  arrive,  I  am  willing  to  risk 
in  what  to  me,  so  far  as  my  health  is  concerned,  is,  in  fact, 
an  enemy's  country  ;  but  an  immediate  return,  to  spend  the 
whole  summer  as  I  spent  the  last,  in  a  gasping,  agonizing 
conflict,  with  my  old  invulnerable  foe,  is  what  I  cannot  think 
of,  and  it  is  what  you  ought  not,  on  sober  reflection,  to  ask. 
Our  dear  Mrs.  Osborne  is  like  a  mother  to  me — kind  and 
attentive  to  every  want,  sympathizing  and  considerate. 

I  have  not  attended  any  of  the  spring  course  of  lectures, 
from  which,  before  my  sudden  sickness,  I  was  reckoning  to 
derive  so  much  benefit,  as  I  have  been  afraid  of  exposure  in 
cold  lecture-rooms,  and  drafts  of  air.  I  have,  however,  the 
benefit  of  reading  in  the  "  Lancet"  most  accurate  reports, 
revised  by  the  author,  of  Dr.  Swett's  excellent  lectures  on 
diseases  of  the  chest. 

I  cannot  deny  that  I  am  not  as  well  yet  as  I  was  during 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEE,    M.D.  2  77 

the  winter.  Though  not  down  sick — able  to  be  out,  yet  I 
pass  many  days  under  the  incubus  of  my  relentless  malady  ; 
and  that  incubus — that  weight  of  oppression — that  iron 
grasp,  though  you  have  mercifully  not  experienced  it,  you 
have  still  seen  enough  of  your  suffering  brother  to  know  full 
well  what  it  is.  I  cannot  deny  but  that  under  such  circum 
stances,  I  sometimes  get  into  darkness  and  the  deeps,  fairly 
depressed  by  the  superincumbent  load  of  suffering — bruised, 
broken,  and  wounded,  both  in  body  and  mind,  under  the 
sharp  and  continued  stroke  of  the  Almighty's  hand,  in  the 
form  of  an  incorrigible  and  energetic  disorder.  But  I  strive 
to  bow  with  resignation  to  his  holy  will,  and  pray  that  all  my 
sufferings  may  be  truly  sanctified. 


a  Since  life  in  sorrow  must  be  spent, 
So  be  it — I  am  well  content, 
And  meekly  wait  my  last  remove, 
Seeking  only  growth  in  love. 
No  bliss  I  seek,  but  to  fulfil 
In  life,  in  death,  thy  lovely  will ; 
No  succors  in  my  woes  I  want, 
Save  what  Thou  art  pleased  to  grant. 
Love  is  our  only  business  here — 
Love,  simple,  constant,  and  sincere ; 
Oh,  blessed  days  thy  servants  see, 
Spent,  oh  Lord,  in  pleasing  thee  !" 


278  MEMORIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 


CHAPTEE   XIII. 

TRIALS    IN    OBTAINING   HIS    PROFESSION HOPES     CROWNED 

WITH     A     MEDICAL     DEGREE VOYAGE    TO     CUBA,    WITH 

NOTES    OF   LIFE   AT   HAVANA. 

When,  Father,  thou  dost  send  the  chastening  rod, 

Oh,  what  am  I  that  I  should  dare  reply, 

Tny  love  arraign,  thy  righteousness  deny, 

And  set  the  creature  in  array  with  God  ? 

Far  be  it  from  my  soul  to  question  thee. 

For  I  am  nought.     Be  this  my  only  prayer, 

That  I  may  have  due  strength  the  rod  to  bear. 

And  bless  the  hand  that  doth  environ  me. 

So  that,  what  time  the  outward  man  doth  perish, 

Smitten  with  many  stripes,  inflicted  deep, 

The  inward  man  renewed  hopes  may  cherish, 

And  high  above  the  storms  in  glory  sweep. 

We  sink  in  the  deep  waters — but  thy  hand 

Shall  hold  us  in  the  waves,  and  bring  us  safe  to  land. 

T.  C.  UPHAM. 

THE  sentiments  of  this  submissive  Scripture  sonnet 
were  often  in  the  heart  and  upon  the  lips  of  him  to 
whose  memory  we  rear  this  book,  as  its  only  proper 
monument.  ~No  useless  tomb-stone  or  epitaph  marks 
his  sepulchre  in  the  sea  ;  but  we  are  fain  to  hope  that 
we  are  building  here,  out  of  his  own  remains,  a  liv- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEE,  M.D.          279 

ing,  speaking  mausoleum,  which  may,  perhaps,  pro 
claim  his  worth,  and  stimulate  other  minds  by  his 
example  and  virtues. 

It  is  well  remarked  by  another,*  "  that  it  is  peculiar 
to  the  true  children  of  God,  that  before  they  reach 
that  perfect  life  which  awaits  them  in  heaven,  they 
will  have  lived  two  blessed  and  beneficent  lives  on 
earth.  In  the  experience  of  eminent  saints,  the  one 
of  these  two  lives  is,  at  the  longest,  short ;  the  other 
is,  at  its  shortest,  long.  The  one  is  spent  by  the  living 
among  the  living ;  the  other  cometh  up  to  the  living 
from  among  the  dead.  The  one  is  the  light  of  labor, 
and  example,  and  influence,  moving  rapidly  towards 
the  grave ;  the  other  is  the  power  of  faith,  and  love, 
and  suffering,  coming  back  in  perennial  memories 
from  the  tomb.  In  the  one,  the  faithful  may  see  rich 
fruits  from  the  short  summer  of  their  toils ;  in  the 
other,  they  will  hear  of  fruits  richer  still,  because  so 
many  ages  shall  lie  within  their  harvest-time.  In  the 
former,  faith  sometimes  does  its  work,  like  Abel's,  in 
one  great  sacrifice ;  in  the  latter,  that  faith,  living  in 
some  God-inspired  record,  often  carries  its  work 
through  long  generations,  and  over  distant  realms." 

It  is  as  an  instance  of  Christian  faith  and  triumph 
under  suffering,  that  we  hold  forth  the  example  herein 
traced.  On  returning  to  !New  York,  after  a  visit  to 
his  friends  in  Maine,  in  the  summer  of  1842,  signal 
ized  by  more  than  ordinary  suffering  from  his  disease, 
he  enters  in  his  Journal,  Sabbath  evening,  November 
20th,  1842 : 

*  Stone's  Memoir  of  Dr.  Milnor. 


280  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

I  can  sing  of  mercy  and  judgment.  I  was  brought  low  and 
he  helped  me.  Through  the  Lord's  great  mercy,  I  am  yet 
before  him — the  living  to  praise  him.  I  left  Hallowell  the 
12th  of  September,  and  arrived  here  the  fourteenth  of  the 
same  month.  For  two  months  after  my  return,  I  was  so 
unwell  as  to  render  it  quite  doubtful  if  I  should  live  through 
the  winter.  But  I  am  now  much  better  than  I  had  reason  to 
expect  I  ever  should  be  again.  Still  my  health  is  very  pre 
carious  and  variable ;  and  it  would  be  easy,  and  not  surpris 
ing,  for  my  disorder  at  any  time  to  take  a  dangerous  turn 
that  would  soon  bring  me  to  the  grave.  Let  me  be  prepared 
for  that  event,  which  cannot  be  far  distant. 

On  the  13th  of  October,  my  dear  brother  Henry  sailed 
for  Valparaiso,  in  the  ship  Wales,  Captain  Watts.  We 
hope  that  great  benefit  may  result  from  this  measure  to 
his  own  health,  and  incalculable  spiritual  good  to  those  with 
whom  he  sails.  It  was  exceedingly  painful  to  part  with 
him  for  so  long  a  voyage,  and  so  long  a  period  of  time  as 
he  must  necessarily  be  absent ;  yet  I  trust  the  Lord  will  be 
with  him  in  all  his  wanderings,  make  him  an  instrument  of 
great  good  to  others,  and  permit  us  in  due  time  to  behold 
his  face  in  vastly  better  health.  But  should  we  never  meet 
again  this  side  eternity,  I  confidently  hope  (and  in  this  hope 
we  parted)  that  through  the  faith  that  unites  us  to  Jesus, 
we  shall  meet  again  in  heaven,  to  walk  together  the  streets  of 
the  New  Jerusalem,  and  to  go  no  more  out  forever. 

Sallath  Evening ,  Feb.  5th,  1843. — I  trust  I  have  not 
spent  an  unprofitable  Sabbath  at  home  Have  been  em 
ployed  in  reading  the  Bible  and  prayer.  By  the  blessing 
of  God  on  my  studies,  I  am  hoping  to  graduate  next  month, 
and  receive  my  medical  diploma.  With  this  in  view,  I  have 
been  more  completely  occupied  this  winter  than  I  ever  was 
before — indeed,  almost  too  much  so  for  my  health.  In  three 
weeks,  however,  I  expect  to  be  examined  as  a  candidate  for 
medical  honors  ;  and  if  I  can  only  safely  pass  that  ordeal,  I 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEE,  M.D.          281 

shall  feel  greatly  relieved,  and  shall  then  have  a  little  rest  from 
the  severe  application  to  which  I  am  now  compelled  in  prepara 
tion  for  it.  Grant  thy  blessing,  oh  Lord,  upon  my  endeavors, 
and  prepare  me  for  the  high  responsibilities  of  my  future  pro 
fession. 

March  [3tk. — On  Saturday,  the  fourth  instant,  I  passed 
safely  my  examination  before  the  Professors  ;  and  on  Tuesday, 
the  seventh,  we  were  all  cursorily  examined  before  the  Trus 
tees.  On  the  third  of  April,  we  are  to  be  examined  on  the 
subject  of  our  thesis,  and  the  next  day  receive  our  diplomas, 
which  finishes  the  process  of  setting  us  afloat  in  the  medical 
profession".  I  feel  a  deep  sense  of  my  imperfect  preparation 
for  its  high  duties  and  responsibilities,  but  my  hope  is,  that 
by  future  diligence  and  the  blessing  of  God,  I  may  be  able 
to  make  up  some  of  my  numerous  deficiencies,  and  daily  be 
come  better  prepared  for  my  future  career.  It  is  a  very 
great  mercy  to  have  been  permitted  to  gain  my  profession, 
although,  from  constant  ill  health,  I  feel  that  I  am  by  no  means 
so  thoroughly  prepared  in  all  respects  as  I  could  wish.  I  am 
unworthy  utterly  of  the  Lord's  great  goodness — a  guilty, 
weak,  and  helpless  worm — a  miserable  sinner,  lost,  undone 
forever  without  Christ.  Lord  have  mercy  on  me. 

Saturday  Afternoon,  April  loth,  1845. — On  the  third  of 
this  month,  I  was  examined  on  my  Thesis,  subject  my  own 
disease,  ASTHMA  ;  and  on  the  evening  of  the  fourth,  the  public 
exercises  of  examination  took  place,  when  with  my  other 
class  mates  (fifteen  besides  myself,)  I  received  my  diploma,  and 
thus  am  fairly  launched  in  my  profession.  How  long,  or  how 
safely  my  frail  bark  may  ride  on  the  troubled  waters  of  life,  re 
mains  to  be  seen. 

I  have  this  week  been  more  seriously  attacked  with  Hemo 
ptysis  (spitting  of  blood),  than  ever  before.  I  feel  this  to  be  a 
solemn  warning  to  be  ready  for  my  summons  to  the  eternal  world, 
for  it  may  at  any  moment  come.  Tubercular  disease  may  rapidly 
supervene  upon  my  other  symptoms,  perhaps  it  has  already 


282  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

commenced  its  fatal  ravages,  and  may  very  soon  hurry  me  to 
an  early  grave.  Oh  !  how  loath  we  are  to  die  !  How  we  do 
"  cling  to  the  walls  of  this  clay  tenement,"  though  we  may 
have  suffered  terribly  from  the  numerous  rents  and  gaping 
fissures  that  disease  has  made  in  it.  If  I  lived  up  to  the  high 
amount  of  a  Christian's  privilege,  I  need  not  "  start  or  fear 
to  die,"  for  death  to  the  Christian  is  but  the  portal  to  ever 
lasting  glory. 

Last  year,  my  birth-day,  March  29th,  found  me  just  recover 
ing  from  a  severe  attack  of  pneumonia,  or  violent  inflamma 
tion  of  the  lungs,  from  which  I  barely  escaped  with  my  life. 
Fain  did  I  then  think  and  resolve  that  I  would  live  more 
holily  than  ever  before,  and  in  some  respects  I  did,  for  quite  a 
long  time,  improve  and  wax  strong.  But,  ah  !  my  goodness 
was  too  much  u  as  the  morning  cloud,  and  the  early  dew, 
which  soon  passeth  away."  I  feel  this  bleeding  at  the  lungs 
to  be  now  a  memento  mori  of  most  solemn,  emphatic  import. 
To  be  sure,  it  is  not  necessarily  fatal  by  any  means ;  many 
persons  have  had,  and  do  have  it  to  quadruple  the  extent  that 
I  ever  suffered,  and  yet  live  twenty  or  thirty  years  afterwards, 
and  enjoy  good  health.  By  going  to  a  milder  climate  in  the 
autumn,  as  I  intend,  if  Providence  permit,  and  there  residing 
a  number  of  years,  my  health  may  be  greatly  improved,  and 
partially  restored.  But  I  am  constrained  to  think  that  there 
is  in  my  lungs  an  incipient  tendency  to  Tubercular  Phthisis, 
pulmonary  consumption  ;  and  if  this  be  the  case,  this  animal 
frame  will,  very  probably,  some  day,  perhaps  not  far  distant, 
be  brought  to  its  kindred  dust  by  this  relentless  destroyer  of 
the  human  race. 

If  it  is  God's  will,  be  it  so.  I  shall  sink  into  the  grave, 
and  be,  so  far  as  this  world  is  concerned,  as  to  anything 
I  have  done  in  it,  to  make  my  name  remembered,  as  though  I 
had  not  been.  But  oh  !  most  gracious  Lord  !  lift  me  above 
the  dominion  of  such  gloomy,  despairing  thoughts.  Grant 
unto  me  that  faith  which  unites  to  the  Lamb — that  faith  which 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.         283 

u  says  to  the  mountains,  Depart;  that  stand  betwixt  God  and 
the  soul."  Oh  !  grant  me  such  an  overcoming  faith,  that  I 
may  be  enabled  joyfully  to  contemplate  death,  as  but  the 
medium  of  transfer  to  that  blessed  world  where  all  is  love,  joy, 
peace,  and  blessedness  everlasting. 

"  Nor  pain,  nor  grief,  nor  anxious  fear,  invade  those  bounds." 

Oh  !  my  soul,  "  set  now  thine  house  in  order,  prepare  to  meet 
thy  God."  Did  I  know  that  I  should  live  yet  thirty  years, 
how  soon  would  it  be  gone  !  How  soon  is  the  little  all,  the  inch 
or  two  of  time  that  makes  even  the  longest  earthly  existence, 
lost  and  swallowed  up,  with  the  years  that  have  been.  "  And 
he  died,"  must  at  length  be  said  of  the  longest,  best-spent  life 
on  earth.  Blessed  Saviour !  may  I  be  daily  washed  in  thy 
precious  blood,  which  alone  can  take  away  sin.  May  my  soul 
be  purified,  and  made  white  ;  and  may  I  be  abundantly  fitted 
by  grace,  and  ready,  whenever  thou  shalt  call  me,  to  enter  upon 
the  blissful  enjoyments  of  thine  immediate  presence,  in  the 
heavenly  world — Amen. 

Of  a  date  near  to  one  of  these  entries  in  the  Journal, 
is  the  following  letter  to  his  brother  who  had  gone  to 
the  Pacific,  a  part  of  which  we  admit  here  because  it 
sheds  light  upon  one  important  element,  and  trait  of 
character,  viz.  the  uncommon  strength  and  vivacity  of 
his  fraternal  affection.  "  Thy  love  to  me  was  wonder 
ful,  passing  the  love  of  woman." 

And  now  my  dear,  dear  H.  what  shall  I  say  unto  thee  ? 
Where  shall  I  begin  amid  the  hosts  of  tender  thoughts  and 
emotions  that  have  been  struggling  in  my  bosom  for  utterance, 
ever  since  the  memorable  day  of  your  departure  ?  .1  can  truly 
say  as  Paul  to  the  Corinthians,  "  My  mouth  is  opened  unto 
you,  my  heart  is  enlarged."  Yes,  my  heart  is  full, 
overflowing,  and  if  I  can  lead  off  to  you  through  this  chan- 


284:  MEMOEIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

ncl  but  a  tiny  will  of  the  effervescent,  living  flood  of  burning 
thoughts,  and  ardent  affections,  I  shall  do  as  much  as  I  could 
reasonably  expect. 

Through  the  Lord's  great  goodness,  my  health  has  been  im 
proving  since  you  sailed,  and  I  felt  wonderfully  cheerful,  and 
sustained  under  the  trial  of  our  separation.  Indeed  it  seemed 
more  or  less  of  relief  after  painful  depressing  anticipations, 
and  the  harrowing  excitement  and  hurry  of  preparation  for  the 
voyage,  to  feel  that  the  long  agony  was  over,  the  first  act 
passed,  and  the  enterprise  fairly  commenced.  And  then  the 
circumstances  of  the  undertaking  have  been  so  full  of  mercy, 
and  the  hand  of  our  Heavenly  Father,  so  evidently  guiding  and 
controlling  all,  that  we  have  felt  the  pangs  of  separation  to  be 
greatly  assuaged,  bitter  and  severe  though  its  necessity  has 
been.  We  are  strong  in  the  belief  that  it  will  be  for  your  re 
covery,  and  confident  in  the  hope  of  your  usefulness  on  board 
the  ship.  It  is  not  too  much  to  ask  of  G-od  that  all  with 
whom  you  sail  may  be  brought  into  the  fold  of  Christ.  No  ! 
it  is  not ;  and  it  is  our  daily,  earnest  prayer,  that  this  may  be 
the  blessed  result  of  your  labors.  0  !  my  dear  H.  my  heart 
is  continually  going  out  towards  you,  and  ascending  heaven 
wards  in  intense,  longing  desires,  that  cannot  be  uttered  for 
your  health  and  usefulness.  We  meet  in  spirit  often  at  the 
throne  of  grace  ;  may  we  feel  daily  more  and  more  the  un 
speakable  preciousness  of  such  a  privilege. 

Our  communion  in  times  past  has  been  always  sweet,  and 
I  think  we  may  say  for  the  most  part  profitable,  particularly 
for  the  last  year  or  two,  while  both  under  the  chastening,  but 
kind  and  merciful  hand  of  our  Heavenly  Father.  We  have 
"  sat  together  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ  Jesus,"  and  talked 
much  of  "  the  things  belonging  to  the  kingdom  of  God,"  and 
our  own  highest  good  ;  and  we  have  unitedly,  when  under  the 
pressure  of  affliction,  poured  our  groans  and  complaints  into 
His  ear,  who  was  "  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with 
grief,"  and  can  best  bind  up  the  bruised  and  broken  of  heart. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVER,    M.D.  285 

I  have  been  richly  fed  to-day  in  the  sanctuary.  May  I 
inwardly  digest,  and  have  incorporated  into  my  being  the  in 
struction  I  have  received.  This  morning  I  heard  an  excel 
lent  discourse  from  Rev.  Dr.  Adams,  on  the  importance  of 
prayerful  retirement  and  self-mortification,  from  Luke  6th 
chapter,  12th  verse,  and  Galatians  5th  chapter,  24th  verse. 
This  afternoon  an  arousing,  profitable,  and  faithful  sermon  on 
much  the  same  subject  from  2nd  Corinthians,  1st  chap,  llth 
verse.  Both  sermons  were  in  confirmation  of  the  Pastoral 
Letter  that  has  been  issued  by  the  third  Presbytery  to  the 
different  churches  under  its  care. 

Give  my  kindest  remembrance  to  our  friend  the  Captain, 
and  tell  him  I  trust  when  he  returns,  we  may  welcome  him 
as  a  brother  in  Chri&t.  This  letter  will  be  a  long  and  weary 
time  on  the  way,  but  it  will  be  as  new  to  you,  when  you  get  it, 
as  though  it  had  gone  with  rail-road  speed.  I  attended  my 
first  recitation  at  Dr.  Parker's  office  on  Friday,  the  28th  inst. 
I  hope  I  shall  have  strength  to  get  through  my  studies  this 
winter,  but,  perhaps,  I  shall  not ;  perhaps  the  "  residue  of  my 
years  will  be  cut  oif  in  the  midst."  Ever  pray  that  I  may  be 
prepared  for  every  event  of  God's  providence.  The  Lord 
ever  bless  and  keep  you.  Your  loving  Brother, 

NATHANIEL. 

This  yearning  desire  and  hope  of  honorably  com 
pleting  his  medical  studies,  which,  to  less  energy  and 
perseverance  than  his,  under  such  a  load  of  infirmity, 
would  have  been  quite  impossible,  a  gracious  Provi 
dence  permitted  him  to  realize.  His  influence  also 
was  eminently  salutary  upon  his  fellow-students.  As 
President  of  the  Medical  Temperance  Society  in  the 
Crosby  Street  College,  he  labored  with  an  honorable 
zeal  and  animation  in  its  behalf,  personally  soliciting 
his  fellow-students  to  join,  and  give  their  influence  in 


286  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

favor  of  the  cause  of  temperance.  The  consummation 
of  his  hopes  in  the  attainment  of  a  Medical  Degree, 
upon  the  completion  of  a  regular  course  of  study  and 
lectures,  is  thus  playfully  announced  in  a  letter  to  his 

Sister : 

New  York,  March  8th,  1848,  Wednesday  evening. 

MOST  DEARLY  BELOVED  SISTER— It  has  often  during  the 
winter  been  a  self-denial  to  be  obliged  to  repress  the  strong 
tide  of  affection,  and  prevent  it  from  gushing  forth  through 
the  delightful  channel  of  epistolary  communication.  The 
necessity  of  such  a  repression  is  now  removed  ;  and  I  am 
determined  that  the  stream  shall  be  as  broad,  and  deep,  and 
full,  as  its  confined  boundaries  will  possibly  allow.  Yes, 
dear  Lizzie,  the  agony  is  over — the  grist  has  come  out  of  the 
mill,  and  the  bag  that  contains  it  is  christened  M.D.  I 
passed  safely  my  examination  before  the  Professors  on  Satur 
day,  March  4th  ;  and  yesterday  we  were  all  examined  again 
before  the  Trustees  of  the  College.  This  last  examination  is 
but  a  secondary,  slight  affair,  but  is  required  by  the  laws  of 
the  institution  before  we  can  obtain  our  diplomas. 

On  Monday,  the  2nd  of  April,  we  are  to  assemble  again, 
and  be  examined  on  our  Inaugural  Dissertations  in  public,  or 
as  it  is  called,  defend  our  Thesis.  We  are  then  to  be  ad 
dressed  by  our  President,  Dr.  John  Augustine  Smith,  and 
the  next  day  receive  our  diplomas.  This  finishes  the  game  ; 
and  thenceforward  we  are  to  stand  or  fall  as  physicians, 
should  we  all  practise  the  healing  art,  on  our  own  merits.  It 
is,  I  can  assure  you,  an  unspeakable  relief  to  have  passed 
favorably  that  examination  which  was  necessary  in  order  to 
obtain  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Medicine,  and  thus  place  me 
on  a  legal  basis  with  the  highest  in  the  profession.  An  im 
mense  incubus  has  been  taken  from  off  my  shoulders,  which 
had  been  growing  still  more  heavy  and  oppressive,  as  the 
time  approached  that  was  to  decide  whether  I  was  still 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          287 

longer  to  stagger  under  the  load,  or  be  as  now,  through  the 
Lord's  great  mercy,  happily  relieved.  Considering  the  im 
mense  difficulties  and  hindrances  from  infirm  health,  with 
which  I  have  had  constantly  to  struggle  in  obtaining  my 
medical  education,  the  favor  of  a  happy  issue  to  my  studies 
is  truly  a  most  signal  one,  and  ought  to  be  dwelt  upon  with 
the  most  lively  gratitude.  I  have  had  a  winter  of  severe 
study — the  most  so  of  any  of  my  life.  Attendance  on  the 
lectures  and  office  recitations,  has  been,  during  the  cold 
weather,  a  great  trial  to  my  health.  Indeed,  much  to  my 
sorrow,  I  have  been  compelled,  on  that  account,  to  lose 
many  both  of  lectures  and  recitations — the  benefit  of  which, 
particularly  the  latter,  I  have  felt  that  I  could  ill  afford  to 
forego. 

My  health,  I  think,  on  the  whole,  has  not  been  as  good  as 
it  was  last  winter.  I  have  had,  it  is  true,  fewer  violent  spas 
modic  attacks  of  asthma  ;  but  it  has  been  more  habitual,  and 
my  cough  has  been  more  steadily  severe  and  troublesome.  I 
weigh  some  six  or  eight  pounds  more  than  when  I  left  Hallo- 
well,  and  am  vastly  better  than  at  that  time  ;  but  it  has  been 
truly  with  the  "  skin  of  my  teeth"  that  I  have  passed  through 
this  winter  ;  and  it  ought  to  be  the  last  I  spend  in  this 
climate  for  a  number  of  years,  As  to  thinking  of  perma 
nently  practising  in  New  York,  with  my  present  health,  it 
would  be  folly  and  madness.  I  must  seek  a  milder  climate 
before  another  winter,  for  I  have  barely  survived  this.  I. 
intend  to  remain  here  during  the  summer — attend  the  spring 
course — see  as  much  practice  as  I  can  at  the  hospitals,  dis 
pensaries,  etc.,  and  be  with  Dr.  P.  as  much  as  possible — take 
cases  also  myself  to  attend  to  among  the  poor,  and  endeavor 
to  perfect  myself  as  far  as  I  can  in  the  routine  of  my  profes 
sion. 

In  September,  I  must  be  winging  my  flight  southward  to 
more  genial  skies — most  probably  to  the  West  Indies,  Trini 
dad  de  Cuba.  But  more  of  this  when  my  arrangements  are 


288  MEMORIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

more  definitely  formed.  Were  my  offers  and  profits  ever  so 
tempting,  it  would  be  hazardous  to  my  life  to  remain  north 
another  winter  at  this  time. 

I  long  intensely  sometimes  to  enjoy  the  society  of 
yourself  and  dear  Mother,  but  it  fills  me  with  gloom  to 
think  of  returning  to  Hallowell.  I  feel  like  weeping  when  I 
think  of  the  long  years  of  suffering  I  have  there  been  com 
pelled  to  endure — the  joyous  season  of  my  boyhood,  the  days 
of  my  youth,  saddened  and  oppressed  by  the  iron  hand  of  a 
most  relentless,  distressing  disorder,  and  still,  almost  as  hope 
lessly  as  ever  under  its  power  ;  and  yet,  perhaps,  in  the 
darkest  hour,  "  There  most  His  mercy  shone." 

My  heart  is  full  of  love,  and  it  longs  to  have  the  objects  of  its 
affection  near  at  hand.  Oh,  if  I  had  the  blessing  of  perfect 
health,  and  the  prospect  of  pecuniary  competence,  how  soon 
would  I  be  seeking  one  that  might  always  be  near — the  dear, 
sweet  companion  both  of  joyous  and  of  weary  hours.  Yes, 
dear  E.,  if  I  were  well,  and  competently  situated,  you  should 
soon  have  a  sister  to  love.  The  deep,  strong  pulses  of  love, 
are  ever  and  anon  throbbing  with  almost  ungovernable  im 
petuosity  from  the  very  centre  of  my  soul ;  and  I  frankly 
confess  that  it  is  one  of  the  hardest  trials  I  am  called  to 
endure,  to  be  obliged,  in  consequence  of  my  ill  health,  in 
definitely  to  postpone  all  thoughts  of  ever  realising  the  beau 
ideal  of  my  imagination  in  a  lovely  wife.  But  enough  and 
too  much.  Your  affectionate  brother. 

The  ensuing  summer  of  1843,  he  paid  his  last  visit 
to  his  friends  in  Maine,  his  Mother,  Sister,  and  eldest 
Brother  joining  him  at  his  Uncle's,  J.  S.  Barrell,  by 
the  sea-side,  in  Old  York,  in  order  that  he  might  not 
have  to  repeat  the  hazardous  experiment  of  another 
trip  to  the  Kennebec.  It  was  a  visit  of  precious,  yet 
melancholy  interest  on  both  sides,  and  felt  to  be  the 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          289 

last,  forasmuch  as  his  plan  was  fixed  for  a  residence 
in  the  West  Indies.  Though  Consumption  had  plainly 
marked  him  for  her  own,  his  spirits  were  buoyant,  yet 
serene  ;  his  hopes,  if  not  sanguine,  yet  chastened  and 
steady  ;  his  purpose  and  energy  strong  to  banish  him 
self  from  his  country  and  friends,  for  the  exercise  of 
his  profession ;  while  his  heart  and  social  emotions 
were  never  more  genial  or  tender  towards  his  kindred 
and  kind.  It  was  a  visit  by  which  he  became  doubly 
endeared  to  an  appreciating  circle  of  relatives  and 
friends,  and  entwined  also  with  the  sensibilities  of 
some  whom  he  had  not  known  before.  The  following 
is  a  brief  record  of  this  visit  in  the  Private  Journal : 

York,  Maine,  Say  ward  Place,  Sept.  20th,  1843. — I  arrived 
at  this  lovely  abode  of  my  ancestors,  on  the  26th  of  July ; 
having  been  here  eight  weeks  to-day.  Dear  Mother  and 
Sister  arrived  from  Hallowell  the  day  previous,  and  G-eorge 
was  with  us  four  weeks.  "We  have  enjoyed  very  much  to 
gether,  and  have  had  unnumbered  mercies  to  be  grateful  for. 
My  health  has  been  various  as  it  is  in  New  York.  I  expect 
to  leave  to-morrow  for  New  York,  and  from  thence,  in  the 
course  of  a  month,  to  embark  for  Trinidad  de  Cuba. 

New  York,  Oct.  7th,  Saturday  Evening. — I  bade  a  painful 
adieu  to  dear  Mother  and  E.,  at  York  on  the  21st  September, 
and  arrived  safely  in  this  city,  by  God's  blessing,  on  the  23rd. 
My  heart  almost  sinks  when  I  think  of  parting  with  the  beloved 
brother  with  whom  I  have  now  for  so  long  a  time  been  living 
in  circumstances  of  the  most  intimate  and  familiar  endearment. 
I  am  to  launch  alone  into  the  world,  and  enter  its  scenes  with 
out  a  single  dear  friend  at  my  side,  with  whom  to  counsel  and 
advise,  and  hold  sweet  communion.  Alone  have  I  been  before, 
many  months,  nay  years,  as  in  South  America,  and  Malaga, 
when  I  was  separated  for  two  years,  from  all  my  nearest  re- 
13 


290  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

laticms  ;  but  I  have  never  before  set  out  upon  any  career  in 
life,  as  I  am  now  doing  in  the  profession  of  medicine.  0  Lord, 
I  entreat  thee,  direct  and  bless  me  in  all  my  under  takings 
that  are  consistent  with  thy  will,  and  may  I  never  enter  upon 
any  that  are  not.  Preserve  me  from  all  the  temptations, 
snares,  perplexities,  and  trials  that  may  await  me,  whither  I  am 
going.  Grant  me  skill  in  my  profession,  and  make  me  a  great 
blessing  to  many,  both  in  their  bodies  and  in  their  spirits, 
which  are  thine.  O,  keep  me  ever  near  Thee,  in  humble  faith 
and  dependance  !  Deliver  me  from  the  dreadful  corruptions 
and  wickedness  of  my  own  heart,  which  are  more  dangerous 
to  my  safety  and  peace  than  outward  enemies.  In  thee  may 
I  ever  trust ;  save  me  from  all  my  foes,  and  keep  me  unto 
thine  heavenly  kingdom,  to  go  no  more  out  for  ever — Amen. 
New  York,  Sabbath  Evening,  Oct.  Sth. — I  have  enjoyed  a 
pleasant,  retired  Sabbath  in  my  own  room,  and  I  hope  a  pro 
fitable  one.  This  evening  I  have  renewed  my  covenant  with 
God  in  cheerful  sincerity,  and  I  trust  entire  consecration  to 
His  blessed  service.  Oh  !  that  his  powerful  grace  may  enable 
me  henceforth  to  walk  "  holily  and  without  blame  before  Him 
in  love."  But  one  or  two  Sabbaths  remain  to  me,  for  the 
present,  in  this  land  of  Gospel  light  and  privilege  ;  in  a  few 
weeks  I  shall,  if  God  permit,  be  in  a  land  cursed  and  darkened 
with  two  great  evils — Slavery  and  Popery.  •  May  the  light  of 
love  in  my  own  breast  shine  pure  and  brightly  for  my  own 
guidance,  and  in  some  humble  manner,  perhaps,  for  the  bene 
fit  of  others  around  me,  amid  the  new  scenes  of  life  upon  which 
I  am  about  to  enter. 

"  Blest  Saviour !  Let  it  be  my  lot ; 

To  tread  with  Thee,  this  round  of  being  ; 
Thy  love  and  mercy  alter  not, 

When  every  sunbeam  friend  is  fleeing. 
Thy  love  shall  be  my  polar  light, 

And  whether  weal  or  woe  betide  me, 
Through  raging  storm  and  shadowy  night, 

Its  blaze  shall  shine  to  cheer  and  guide  me." 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEB,  M.D.          291 

The  time  of  his  departure  to  the  Island  of  Cuba  is 
now  at  hand,  and  the  following  is  an  extract  from  his 
last  American  letter,  WTitten  on  the  eve  of  sailing : 

New  York,  Oct.  29th,  1843. 

TO  MY  DEAR  AND  HONORED  MOTHER  AND  MY  BELOVED  SIS 
TER. — I  know  you  will  wish  to  hear  everything  of  any  interest 
concerning  me ;  and  I  shall,  therefore,  dash  "  in  medias  res," 
and  compress  into  this  letter  as  much  as  possible.  Dear  E.7s 
farewell  letter  of  October  23rd,  was  safely  received  on  the 
25th  instant,  and  I  thank  my  sweet  sister  for  the  joy  which 
it  gave,  and  for  the  affectionate  advice,  kind  injunctions, 
and  loving  salutations  which  it  contained.  The  latter  I  re 
turn  with  all  the  warmth,  tenderness,  and  energy  of  a  bro 
ther's  devoted  heart ;  the  former,  I  hope,  I  shall  ponder 
and  profit  by,  as  it  is  just  the  counsel  which  I  desire  to  im 
press  deeply  on  the  tablets  of  my  own  heart.  May  heavenly 
peace  and  consolation  remain  with  you,  my  dear  Mother  and 
Sister  ;  and  oh,  may  the  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  un 
derstanding,  keep  my  mind  and  heart  in  Christ  Jesus  con 
tinually.  I  am  about  to  sail  upon  the  material  ocean,  and 
am  emphatically  just  launching  upon  the  ocean  of  life.  May 
he  whose  skill  is  alone  competent  to  direct,  guide  me  in 
safety  through  all  the  shoals  and  quicksands  that  lie  in  my 
course,  and,  at  length,  my  perils  over,  bring  me  in  safety  to 
the  -haven  of  eternal  rest. 

Through  his  gracious  blessing,  I  think  I  can  say  that  all  is 
well.  All  is  well,  whether  it  be  for  life  or  death.  I  have 
committed,  and  desire  daily  to  commit,  my  eternal  interests — 
my  everlasting  all,  into  his  hands ;  and  he  is  faithful  who  has 
promised  to  save  all  who  put  their  trust  in  him. 

"  Jesus,  my  God,  I  know  his  name, 

His  name  is  all  my  trust ; 
Nor  will  he  put  my  soul  to  shame, 
Nor  let  my  hope  be  lost." 


292  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

I  expect  to  feel  deeply  the  want  of  Christian  society  and 
friendly  companionship,  and  to  pass  some  lonely  hours ;  but 
unhappy  ones  I  need  not  have,  if  I  only  keep  near  to  him 
who  is  a  friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother.  Pray 
that  he  will  ever  enable  me  to  do  so. 

My  baggage  was  sent  on  board  the  ship  yesterday,  P.  M., 
and  in  compliance  with  a  previous  arrangement,  I  took'  my 
carpet-bag  and  rode  up  to  pass  a  pleasant  Sabbath  with 
our  most  excellent  and  hospitable  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Osborn.  It  is  much  more  agreeable  to  take  my  departure 
from  their  kind  roof,  than  it  would  have  been  from  my  board 
ing-house.  My  health  has  withstood  the  fatigue  and  excite 
ment  of  preparation  for  my  departure  remarkably  well. 

Let  us  feel  that  heaven  is  our  home,  and  be  ever 
aiming  to  arrive  there  ourselves,  and  if  God  enable  us,  by 
any  means  to  bring  others  along  with  us.  My  heart  is  con 
tinually  going  out  toward  you ;  and  you  must  imagine  and 
believe,  that  if  love  were  a  material  essence,  every  individual 
article  of  this  package  would  be  imbued  and  interpenetrated 
with  the  warmest  affection  of  my  soul.  Greorge  has  given  me 
D'Aubigne's  History  to  take  with  me,  and  also  Bogatsky's 
"  Golden  Treasury" — an  excellent,  spiritual,  every-day  com 
panion  for  the  Christian. 

Monday,  P.M.,  Ship  Hellespont. — Safe  on  board,  a  steamer 
along-side,  towing  us  down  the  harbor,  with  my  dear  brother 
and  Cousin  accompanying  me  as  far  as  they  can.  Every 
thing  is  favorable.  My  noble  brother  has  done  all  for  me,  and 
I  am  well  provided  with  every  comfort.  I  feel  in  good  spirits 
for  the  voyage,  and  trust  the  Lord  will  be  with  me  in  all  my 
goings. 

The  Private  Religious  Diary,  and  a  Journal  for 
Friends,  which  he  now  resumes,  henceforth  supply  all 
materials  of  biography  not  furnished  by  letters.  We 
shall  quote  from  the  two  interchangeably,  only  re- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          293 

marking  that  the  entries  on  the  Sabbath  are  always 
from  the  Diary. 

November  3rd,  1843. — Ship  Hellespont,  Captain  Ellis,  Lat. 
32°  56',  N.,  Long.  74°  30',  W.  We  encountered,  about 
forty  miles  eastward  of  Cape  Hatteras,  that  nucleus  of 
storms,  a  tremendous  gale  of  wind,  accompanied  with  tor 
rents  of  rain,  and  b/  thunder  and  lightning  of  the  most 
appalling  nearness  and  intensity.  I  shall  long  remember 
the  helpless  confusion,  and  in  many  respects  grotesque 
distresses  of  that  wild  and  stormy  night.  The  lightning  flash 
ed  with  a  brightness  that  was  almost  blinding,  the  thunder 
rolled  and  grated  as  if  the  very  firmament  would  split  asunder  ; 
the  wind  blew  almost  a  hurricane  ;  the  rain  fell  in  buckets 
full,  and  the  ship  at  every  roll  went  gunwales  under,  and 
pitched  down  the  declivity  of  the  giant  billows  as  though  she 
would  founder  bows  foremost. 

If  any  door  was  unfortunately  left  unsecured,  slam  bang  it 
swung  upon  its  hinges,  and  chairs,  settees,  and  other  articles  of 
furniture  slid  about  the  cabin  floor,  like  beings  of  animated 
life,  and  the  dishes  rattled  as  if  there  would  never  again  be  a 
plate  to  eat  from.  We  were  shut  up  in  the  cabin,  like  so 
many  chickens  in  a  coop,  for  fear  of  the  torrents  of  rain  and 
sea  water  that  were  flooding  our  decks  outside.  The  lamps 
were  out,  the  air  so  suffocatingly  close,  that  we  could  hardly 
breathe,  and  not  a  ray  of  light  entered,  except  now  and  then 
the  flash  down  the  sky-lights  of  the  red  lightning. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  darkness  and  confusion,  one  of  our  gen 
tleman  passengers,  who  had  ventured  from  his  state-room  to  view 
the  commotion  of  the  great  deep,  stumbled  against  the  stove 
pipe  and  threw  the  whole  down  pell-mell  upon  the  floor.  He  was 
a  good  humored  Grerman,  and  after  the  storm  he  laughingly  told 
the  Captain,  that  he  thought  he  ought  to  bring  in  his  bill  for 
taking  down  that  stove-pipe  !  And  sure  enough  it  was  taken 
down  in  good  time,  for  since  the  storm,  we  have  had  no  need 


MEMORIALS   OF   THE    LIFE 

of  artificial  heat,  and  the  glorious  sun  shines  to-day  with  a  most 
benignant  warmth,  diffusing  cheerfulness  and  health  among 
our  late  woe-begone  company. 

The  weather  is  now  lovely,  thermometer  72°  in  the  shade, 
a  mild,  gentle  breeze,  and  our  invalids  and  other  passengers 
all  on  deck,  enjoying  it  to  the  uttermost,  after  the  fatigues 
and  hardships  of  the  last  three  days.  Our  invalids  are 
improving,  and  we  all  have  reason  tT)  bless  the  watchful 
care  of  that  Almighty  Protector,  who  has  preserved  us  from 
the  fury  of  the  elements,  and  brought  us  thus  far  on  our  way. 
In  the  midst  of  the  gale,  two  large  globes  of  fire  were  seen  by 
those  on  deck,  perched  aloft  upon  the  ship's  yards.  These, 
the  Captain  assures  me,  are  never  seen  but  in  a  very  heavy 
gale,  and  he  has  generally  noticed  that  they  are  visible  at  its 
very  height. 

Tuesday ,  P.J1.,  Nov.  1th. — Our  lady  passengers  have 
proved  very  pleasant  ones,  and  they  have  contributed  not  a 
little  to  my  experience  of  the  pleasure  and  benefit  of  this 
voyage.  The  Miss  M?s  are  sweet,  lovely,  beautiful  girls. 
Gertrude  is  the  invalid,  on  whose  account  the  voyage  was 
undertaken  ;  her  health  has  improved,  and  it  is  delightful  to 
see  the  tenderness  and  delicate  affection  with  which  her  noble 
sister  Agatha,  who  is  the  picture  of  health,  her  kind  Mother 
and  Brother,  all  watch  over  and  attend  to  her  minutest  wants. 
Domestic  affection  is  lovely  to  behold  wherever  it  is  met  with, 
and  my  heart  warms  towards  those  whom  I  behold  exercising 
it.  The  Captain  is  exceedingly  kind  and  polite  to  all  his 
passengers.  The  table  is  furnished  with  almost  every  luxury 
— plenty  of  ice,  poultry,  and  vegetables. 

At  Sea,  Sabbath  Afternoon. — Through  His  gracious  provi 
dence,  who  most  emphatically  can  alone  control  those  agents 
of  His  power,  the  stormy  winds,  the  angry  waves,  and  the  roll 
ing  orbs,  we  were  preserved  from  any  loss  of  life  or  material 
ili mage,  to  our  ship  in  the  late  fearful  storm.  The  passengers 
a,o  a  more  than  ordinarily  agreeable  company.  I  have 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          295 

opened  for  their  perusal,  and  for  distribution  among  the 
sailors,  a  bundle  of  tracts  which  I  brought  with  me,  and  they 
have  been  most  kindly  received  by  all  on  board.  I  have 
been  forward  among  the  men,  and  have  had  some  pleasant 
conversation  with  one  of  the  sailors,  who  seems  to  be  seri 
ously  inclined.  Bless,  O  Lord,  the  seed  I  may  sow.  I  have 
had  a  profitable  Sabbath,  through  God's  precious  word  and 
his  throne  of  grace,  to  which  I  may  continually  resort,  and 
draw  therefrom  rich  stores  of  wisdom,  grace,  and  consolation. 

"  How  sweet  to  be  allowed  to  pray  to  God  the  Holy  one." 

I  think  I  feel  the  privilege,  it  is  precious,  unspeakably  so. 
Dear  Jesus  !  Blessed  Redeemer,  keep  me,  Oh  !  keep  me 
near  to  thee.  Worldliness  and  alienation  from  Thee,  prevail 
around  me,  draw  me  to  thyself,  and  bind  me  by  the  blessed 
cords  of  thy  love. 

Bahama  Banks. — Latitude  24°  48'  north,  longitude  78° 
West. — We  have  been  passing  the  Stirrup  Keys  this  after 
noon,  at  a  distance  of  about  two  miles,  with  a  heavy  norther 
driving  us  towards  a  lee-shore,  on  which  the  sea  was  breaking 
with  tremendous  violence.  The  long  line  of  breakers  formed 
one  of  the  most  magnificent  spectacles  that  I  ever  beheld, 
lashing  as  though  they  would  strike  to  the  earth's  centre, 
upon  the  rocky  beach,  and  throwing  a  cascade  of  foam  and 
spray  from  forty  to  fifty  feet  perpendicular  into  the  air. 
Driven  by  such  a  sea,  had  we  struck  on  that  shore,  there 
would  hardly  have  been  any  hope  of  saving  a  single  person  of 
all  on  board.  But  our  good  ship,  under  the  guidance  of  an 
experienced  Captain,  stood  along  stiffly  under  a  heavy  press 
of  canvas  at  the  rate  of  eight  or  nine  knots  an  hour.  This 
day's  test  proves  her  to  be  an  excellent,  staunch  sea-boat. 

The  sea-lead  has  been  thrown  at  intervals  during  the  day. 
At  half  past  three  o'clock  this  P.  M.,  we  were  in  seven  and 
a  quarter  fathoms,  twenty  and  a  half  feet.  I  never  before 
was  sailing  along  at  the  rate  of  six  to  eight  knots  an  hour, 


296  MEMORIALS    OF   THE    LIFE 

feeling  the  ship's  way  with  the  lead  ;  and  it  is  by  no  means 
an  agreeable  sensation  to  know  the  necessity  of  thus  nicely 
measuring  the  depth  of  water  beneath  the  ship's  keel.  It  is 
in  truth  dangerous  and  critical  navigation,  and  needs  the 
utmost  watchfulness  and  skill,  which  our  worthy  Captain  is 
most  carefully  exercising. 

One  o'clock,  A.  M.,  Nov.  9th. — Still  on  the  Banks,  three 
and  a  half  fathom  water  under  our  keel.  Some  casts  of  the 
lead  have  been  as  low  as  "  one  fourth  less  three" — that  is, 
sixteen  and  a  half  feet,  our  ship  drawing  eleven  and  a  half 
feet.  The  night  is  perfectly  clear,  and  the  full  moon  shining 
most  splendidly.  A  man  is  in  the  mizzen  chains,  constantly 
throwing  the  lead,  and  all  hands  on  deck  to  manoeuvre  the 
ship,  should  she  suddenly  get  into  too  shoal  water,  or  strike 
the  bottom,  as  ships  not  unfrequently  do.  The  sailor  in  the 
chains,  at  every  cast  of  the  lead,  sings  out  in  regular  profes 
sional  style,  and  prolonged  musical  cadence,  the  report  of 
water  ;  and  we  are  now  listening  to  his  voice  with  an  excite 
ment  and  interest  that  is  thrilling.  "  What  water  have 
you  ?"  is  a  question  of  solemn  and  critical  interest  in  our 
present  circumstances.  We  expect  to  be  across  the  Banks 
in  the  course  of  one  or  two  hours  ;  and  all  our  gentlemen 
passengers,  except  one,  who  is  too  great  an  invalid,  are  keep 
ing  an  anxious  watch  until  we  shall  have  passed  over  this 
dangerous  tract  of  shoal-water. 

It  is  an  harassing  time  for  the  Captain,  and  for  all  on  board 
who  know  anything  of  the  peculiar  dangers  of  our  situation. 
A  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  is  much  less  beset  with  perils 
than  this  West  India  navigation,  where  shoal-water,  low, 
dangerous  Keys,  and  hidden  rocks,  are  continually  in  the 
path  of  the  mariner.  Hundreds  of  vessels  are  constantly 
passing  on  this  same  track  ;  and  by  extreme  care  in  con 
stantly  throwing  the  lead,  they  may  pass  in  safety,  but  they 
are  often  wrecked  by  a  neglect  of  the  proper  precautions. 
The  bottom  is  generally  sandy,  and  vessels  sometimes  thump 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.         297 

lightly  even  a  number  of  times,  and  pass  on  without  any 
damage  ;  but  if  there  is  much  sea,  and  the  strike  heavy,  they 
will  soon  go  to  pieces.  Sometimes  the  water  is  said  to  be  so 
clear,  that  the  fine  sandy  bottom  may  be  seen  in  the  daytime 
with  perfect  distinctness,  in  ten  or  twelve  fathoms  of  water. 

Quarter  past  two  o^dock,  A.  M. — We  have  just  passed  off 
the  Banks  in  safety.  Five  or  six  fathoms  of  water  on  the 
edge  of  the  Banks,  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  just  outside, 
and  then  no  bottom  in  the  deep,  unfathomed  waters  of  the 
Gulf  Stream  !  Supposing  the  sea  should  retire,  what  an 
awful  precipice  would  be  exposed  to  view.  More  than  thirteen 
hundred  feet  perpendicular  descent  in  some  parts  ;  and  how 
much  more  in  others,  man  does  not  know.  The  line  of  de 
marcation,  separating  the  light  green  of  the  Banks  from  the 
dark  blue  waters  of  the  Gulf,  was  most  singularly  distinct. 
The  waters  were  piled  up  in  juxta-position,  but  not  at  all 
blended.  The  moon  shone  brightly,  enabling  us  clearly  to 
discern  this  remarkable  boundary  for  a  considerable  time  be 
fore  we  reached  it ;  there  it  lay  right  in  the  path  of  our  ship, 
extending  on  each  side  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach — ap 
parently  a  dense  wall  of  Egyptian  darkness,  and  thickness 
immeasurable,  looking  truly  ominous  and  appalling.  But 
onward,  onward  must  we  go,  and  onward  rushes  our  ship  like 
a  creature  of  life,  eager  to  know  her  fate.  At  last  our  bows 
touch  the  Rubicon.  What  now  if  a  line  of  precipitous, 
sunken  rocks,  should  lie  just  on  the  margin  ?  But  on  she 
bounds,  to  the  joy  of  our  hearts,  into  the  deep,  dark  waters 
of  the  Gulf  Stream  ;  and  we  all  breathe  freer,  with  an  un 
measured  abyss  beneath  our  keel. 

Nov.  Wthj  off  Havana. — We  made  the  Highland  near  the 
Matanzas  Bay,  last  night  about  12  o'clock,  and  are  now  only 
the  tenth  day  from  New  York,  standing  with  a  very  light  breeze 
towards  the  Moro  Castle,  whose  frowning  battlements  loom 
up  high  in  the  distance.  The  morning  is  beautiful,  the  air 
mild  and  bland,  and  the  blue  outline  of  the  coast,  as  we  sail 


298  MEMORIALS   OF   THE  LIFE 

along,  faintly  defined  against  the  horizon,  looks  hot  and 
tropical.  Thirteen  sail  are  in  sight,  and  now  and  then  a  fly 
ing-fish  lightly  skimming  the  surface  of  the  waves.  , 

From  the  battlements  of  the  Moro  Castle  we  are  hailed  in 
English,  by  a  man  with  a  huge  speaking-trumpet,  "  Ship 
Ahoy."  u  Aye, aye."  "  Where  are  you  from  ?"  "New 
York ;"  and  on  we  shot  through  the  narrow  entrance,  like  an 
arrow,  and  came  to  anchor  off  the  Custom  House,  where  we 
were  very  soon  boarded  by  the  "  Sanidad,"  or  health  boat. 
The  entrance  of  the  harbor  is  amply  wide  enough  for  two 
ships  to  go  in  or  out  abreast,  although  if  one  be  going  in  and 
the  other  out,  it  requires  nice  management  and  seamanship  to 
keep  them  from  coming  in  contact. 

The  Moro  is  a  fine,  imposing-looking  Castle,  has  a  well- 
supplied  telegraph-station  upon  its  walls,  and  built  as  it  is, 
upon  steep,  precipitous  rocks,  rising  directly  from  the  water's 
edge,  and  within  pistol-shot  of  the  ship-channel,  it  forms  a  very 
strong  defence  to  the  city  and  harbor,  against  any  attacks  from 
the  sea.  It  is  connected  with  another  long  range  of  fortifica 
tions  extending  inland,  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  called  the 
Cabafias.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  harbor's  mouth  is  also 
another  strong  fort  called  La  Punta. 

Havana^  Saturday^  Nov.  l&th,  1843. — Visited,  yesterday, 
the  Cathedral  which  contains  the  ashes  of  the  immortal  dis 
coverer  of  a  New  World,  whose  name  some  large  portion 
of  it  ought  to  have  borne.  The  remains  of  Columbus, 
placed  in  an  urn,  are  inserted  in  the  wall  of  the  Cathedral, 
near  the  grand  altar  and  tabernacle,  and  a  bust,  or  medallion 
of  him,  well-executed  in  white  marble,  covers  the  spot.  At 
the  base  is  the  following  inscription  in  Spanish,  "  O  Restos 
e  Imagen  del  grande  Colon  !  Mil  siglos  durad  guardados  en  la 
Urna,  Y  en  remembranza  de  nuestra  nacion."  0  relics  and 
image  of  the  great  Colon !  A !  thousand  centuries  remain 
guarded  in  thy  urn,  and  in  the  memories  of  our  nation.  On 
the  opposite  side  of  the  Grand  Altar  is  a  small  painting  in- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          299 

sorted  in  the  wall  in  1823,  supposed  to  have  been  executed, 
according  to  the  inscription  upon  it,  in  1478,  fourteen  years 
before  the  discovery  of  America.  It  represents  His  Holiness 
the  Pope,  and  a  company  of  ecclesiastics  saying  mass  in  cele 
bration  of  Christ's  descent  from  the  cross. 

Columbus  died  at  Segovia,  in  Spain,  May  20th,  150G, 
nearly  70  years  of  age.  His  last  words  were,  "  In  manus 
tuas,  doinine,  commendo  spiritum  meum."  His  body  was  de 
posited  in  the  Convent  of  San  Francisco,  and  his  Exequias 
were  celebrated  with  great  formality  in  the  parish  of  Santa 
Maria  de  la  Antigua  de  Valladolid.  In  1613  his  remains  were 
transported  to  the  Castugan  Monastery  of  Las  Luevas  in 
Seville,  where  were  deposited  those  of  his  son  Don  Diego,  who 
died  23rd  of  February,  1526.  In  the  year  1536,  the  bodies 
of  Colon  and  his  son  were  carried  to  Hispaniola,  and  in 
terred  in  the  principal  chapel  of  the  cathedral  of  St.  Domingo ; 
but  even  there  they  did  not  rest  in  peace,  for  they  were  after 
wards  disinterred  and  carried  to  the  city  of  Havana,  in  Cuba. 
Ferdinand  decreed  to  Colon,  after  his  death,  a  very  cheap 
honor.  He  commanded  to  be  erected  a  monument  with  this 
inscription — "  For  Castillo  y  por  Leon — Nuevo  Mundo 
hallo  Colon."  For  Castile  and  Leon — A  new  world  found 
Colon. 

On  the  20th  Dec.,  1795,  his  remains  were  again  disinterred 
with  great  pomp,  placed  in  a  leaden  box,  and  on  the  21st,  the 
requiem  was  sung  and  the  box  put  on  board  the  ship  of  war  to 
carry  to  Havana,  where  she  Arrived  the  15th  of  January,  1796. 
There  they  were  conducted  on  shore  with  great  pomp,  a 
solemn  mass  and  office  of  the  dead  was  said,  and  the  ashes 
deposited,  where  they  now  remain,  on  the  right  of  the  grand 
altar.  Washington  Irving  says,  "  When  we  read  of  th-j 
translation  of  the  ashes  of  the  hero  from  the  port  of  St. 
Domingo,  after  an  interval  of  almost  300  years,  as  sacred,  na 
tional  relics,  with  high  pomp,  and  religious,  military,  and  civil 
ceremony,  the  most  illustrious  and  distinguished  men,  striving 


300  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

to  do  them  honor  ;  we  cannot  do  less  than  reflect,  that  from 
that  same  port,  he  had  gone  out,  loaded  with  ignominious 
chains,  stained  apparently  in  his  fame  as  in  his  fortune,  and 
followed  by  the  cries  of  the  populace.  Such  honors  certainly 
import  very  little  to  the  dead,  nor  could  they  recompense  the 
heart  now  turned  to  dust  and  ashes,  all  the  injuries  and  evils 
which  he  suffered,  but  they  speak  with  an  eloquent  and  con 
soling  voice  to  illustrious  men  who  are  persecuted  and  calum 
niated,  animating  them  to  bear  with  courage  present  in 
juries,  knowing  that  true  merit  survives  calumny  and  receives 
a  glorious  reward  in  the  admiration  of  future  ages." 

There  is  another  place  in  this  city  connected  with  the 
memory  of  Columbus,  deserving  of  notice.  It  is  that  called 
the  Templete,  and  situated  on  the  Plaza  de  Armas,  being  the 
spot  where  Columbus  and  his  followers  celebrated  the  first 
mass  that  was  ever  said  on  this  island.  There  is  a  small 
chapel  in  the  enclosure,  which  is  very  rarely  opened,  and  in 
front  stands  a  column,  with  a  statue  of  the  Virgin  surmounting 
it,  and  this  is  said  to  be  but  a  few  feet  from  the  tree,  under 
which  the  mass  was  said.  The  tree  itself,  I  learn,  was  stand 
ing  until  the  year  1826,  when  some  repairs  and  alterations 
were  made,  and  the  noble  trunk  which  had  lived  more  than 
three  hundred  years,  and  around  which  would  cluster  so  many 
interesting  associations,  was  most  barbarously  cut  down.  There 
are  some  good  paintings  inside  the  chapel,  by  a  French  painter 
representing  the  scene  of  the  first  landing,  and  the  first  mass, 
the  OLD  MASS  TREE  among  other  objects. 

"We  necessarily  omit  here  interesting  descriptions 
of  the  Cemetery,  Gardens,  and  Suburbs  of  Havana, 
and  pass  to  the  last  entry  made  in  that  city  : 

Havana,  Saturday  Evening,  Dec.  2nd. — I  am  still  here 
where  I  fain  hoped  that  I  should  not  be  at  this  time,  but  owing 
to  an  aggravating  delay  in  obtaining  my  permit  from  the 
government,  to  depart  from  the  city,  I  shall  be  detained  yet 


OF   NATHANIEL   CIIEEVER,    M.D.  301 

longer.  The  trammels,  vexations,  and  impositions,  to  which 
a  foreigner  is  here  subjected  by  the  government,  are  almost 
beyond  endurance,  and  make  me  sick  and  weary  of  the  place, 
for  if  it  is  a  hard  thing  to  get  into  Havana,  it  is  surely  much 
harder  to  get  safe  out. 

These  annoyances,  some  of  which,  in  behalf  of  his 
countrymen,  he  was  active  in  procuring  the  mitigation 
of,  while  at  Havana,  are  more  particularly  described 
in  one  of  the  letters  of  his  published  Correspondence 
in  the  "  ISTew  York  Commercial  Advertiser."  Its 
length  and  -  particularity  preclude  its  insertion  here. 
Through  his  vigilance  and  conscientiousness  in  refus 
ing  to  sign  the  ordinary  form  of  a  petition  to  the 
Captain-General  for  a  passport  (which  affirmed,  among 
other  things,  that  the  petitioner  was  of  the  Catholic 
religion),  and  through  the  energy  of  his  represent 
ations  to  the  government,  seconded  by  the  American 
Consul,  and  by  other  Americans,  who  had  ignorantly 
signed  and  sworn  to  papers  of  which  they  knew  not  the 
purport,  several  of  the  obnoxious  requisitions  upon 
foreigners  were  remitted. 

The  initial  documents,  he  says,  that  were  necessary 
for  the  obtaining  a  "  Letter  of  Domiciliation,"  were  as 
illiberal  and  bigoted  a  specimen  of  legislation  as  ever 
disgraced  the  statute  book  of  a  civilized  nation.  They 
were  worthy  of  the  palmiest  days  of  the  Inquisition, 
and  Torquernada  himself  might  appropriately  have 
framed  them.  Through  his  representations  a  modifi 
cation  was  effected  in  the  oppressive  regulations  ;  and 
he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  alteration  pub 
lished  in  the  "  Diario  del  Gobierno." 


302  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

Hope  was  now  ascendant,  with  so  auspicious  a  be 
ginning,  that  he  should  be  able  to  do  much  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  his  fellow  men,  in  the 
country  of  his  adoption.  He  was  ever  in  the  habit 
of  looking  aloft,  and  finding  the  rainbow  behind  the 
cloud.  In  him  were  exemplified  those  quaint,  expres 
sive  lines  of  Faithful  Teate  : 

Hope's  the  top- window  of  that  Ark 
Where  all  God's  Noahs  do  embark ; 
Hope  lets  in  sky-light,  else  how  dark 

Were  such  a  season  ? 
Hope  hath  a  harvest  in  the  Spring, 
In  Winter  doth  of  Summer  sing — 
Feeds  on  the  fruits  while  blossoming, 

Yet  nips  no  bloom. 

Hope  brings  me  home,  when  I'm  abroad  j 
Soon  as  the  first  step  homeward's  trod, 
In  Hope,  to  Thee,  my  God !  my  God ! 

I  come—I  come. 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEB,  M.D.          303 


CHAPTEE    XIY. 

ARRIVAL      AND      SETTLEMENT      AT      TRINIDAD EXAMINED 

AND     APPROVED    BY     THE     ROYAL     UNIVERSITY INVES 
TITURE   WITH   THE   RIGHT    OF   PRACTICE. 

They  who  know  the  Saviour's  name, 
Are  for  all  events  prepared  ; 
What  can  changes  do  for  them, 
Who  have  such  a  guide  and  guard  ? 
Should  they  traverse  earth  around, 
To  the  promise  still  they  come ; 
Every  spot  is  holy  ground — 
God  is  there,  and  He's  their  Home. 

NEWTON. 

WE  approach  in  this  chapter  the  last  failure  of 
earthly  expectations  and  struggles,  to  which  all  must 
come.  The  energy  which  wre  have  seen,  has  hitherto 
sustained  the  invalid  lonely  sufferer,  bears  him  on  to 
the  place  he  had  fixed  upon  for  the  exercise  of  his 
hard-earned  profession,  and  afterward  through  the 
rigorous  ordeal  of  a  medical  examination  in  Spanish, 
by  the  jealous  Academy  of  Havana.  God,  in  his 
Providence,  seemed  to  have  peculiarly  prepared  him 
for  useful  residence  in  a  Spanish  Catholic  country. 
His  Protestantism  was  intelligent  and  thorough,  and 


304  MEMORIALS  OF   THE   LIFE 

his  knowledge  of  Romanism  explicit  and  practical, 
gained  first  by  history  and  afterward  by  much  travel 
and  observation  in  Popish  countries. 

His  familiar  acquaintance  also  with  the  vernacular 
Spanish  tongue,  together  with  his  social,  friendly  dis 
position,  gave  him  facilities  for  access  to  Spanish 
Catholic  minds,  which  there  is  every  reason  to  believe 
he  would  have  wisely  improved  for  the  inculcation  of 
religious  truth,  and  the  diffusion  of  light  from  the 
Word  of  God.  For  the  sake  of  the  good  he  might 
there  do,  after  all  this  Providential  preparation,  we 
could  almost  deem  his  life  insured  awhile,  were  it  not 
for  the  experienced  verity  which  made  Burke  to  ex 
claim  so  mournfully,  "  How  too  often  different  from 
rational  conjecture  is  melancholy  fact!" 

In  his  short  abode  upon  the  Island  of  Cuba,  there  is 
evidence  of  his  benign  influence  both  upon  foreigners 
and  natives,  to  justify  large  expectations  of  usefulness 
from  his  longer  life.  But  an  All-wise  Providence,  whose 
methods,  if  not  always  intelligible,  are  ever  right,  de 
termined  otherwise.  In  order  that  this  may  be  appa 
rent,  we  take  up  again  and  follow  the  thread  of  per 
sonal  narrative  and  experience  running  through  his 
Journal  and  Letters  until  broken  by  death.  An  entry, 
dated  Dec.  6th,  1843,  in  the  Spanish  steamer,  Villa- 
nueva,  bound  from  Batabano  to  Trinidad,  reads  as  fol 
lows  : 

I  left  Havana  yesterday  morning  by  the  rail-road,  a  little  be 
fore  eight,  most  heartily  glad  and  thankful  to  escape  at  length 
from  that  jealous  city.  We  arrived  at  San  Felipe,  the  pre 
sent  terminus  of  the  road,  at  a  quarter  of  ten  o'clock.  The 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.         305 

rail-road  diverges  here  to  Guines,  a  place  of  considerable  re 
sort  for  invalids,  and  the  branch  to  Batabano,  it  is  expected, 
will  be  finished  in  a  few  days.  But  this  expected  benefit  was 
no  advantage  to  us  passengers  that  were  bound  to  the  other 
side  of  the  island,  and  so  we  all  had  to  hire  our  conveyances 
for  Batabano  in  the  best  way  we  could.  After  some  time  had 
elapsed,  I  at  length  made  a  bargain  with  two  white  men, 
brothers,  Creoles  of  the  island,  to  take  myself  and  baggage  to 
the  beach  at  Batabailo  for  six  dollars,  nearly  treble  what  it 
cost  me  to  come  on  the  rail-road  to  San  Felipe.  The  distance 
from  San  Felipe  to  the  beach  is  four  leagues  or  twelve  miles 
My  baggage  was  mounted  in  different  parcels  on  the  backs  of 
four  horses,  myself  mounted  a  fifth,  and  my  two  guides  each 
another,  making  in  all  a  cavalcade  of  seven  horses  and  three 
horsemen.  I  trembled  for  the  safety  of  the  contents  of  my 
inedicine-chest,  when  I  saw  it  raised  and  jolting  upon  horse 
back,  but  there  was  no  remedy  ;  jolt  it  must,  as  well  as  every 
thing  else.  We  started  at  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and 
arrived  at  the  beach  at  half-past  four. 

The  road  was  wild  and  rough,  a  good  part  of  the  way,  but  a 
narrow  horse-path.  My  horse,  an  ugly-looking,  shaggy  little 
beast,  equal  to  Rosinante  herself,  had  a  very  easy,  pleasant 
pace,  the  gentle,  regular  rack  of  the  Cuban  horses.  Never 
was  I  in  a  country  that  equals  this  for  extortions  upon  poor 
travellers.  I  find  on  comparing  notes  with  my  fellow  voyagers 
that  all,  even  the  natives  of  the  island,  are  subject  to  the  same 
impositions.  Three  rials  sterling  (fuertes),  we  paid  at  San 
Felipe  for  the  privilege  of  passing  through  a  large  estate  by 
which  we  shortened  the  road  ;  this  was  perhaps  just  and  right. 
At  Batabailo,  however,  which  is  one  league  from  the  beach, 
another  two  rials  to  the  Captain  del  Partido  for  my  passport ; 
at  the  beach  another  two  rials  for  the  Real  Hacienda,  and  one 
dollar  for  the  privilege  of  having  my  baggage  pass  over  the 
wharf  on  its  way  to  the  steamer  ! 

But  I  found  that  it  was  of  no  avail  to  reason  or  talk  with  the 


306  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

Empleados,  for  the  most  intelligent  of  them  could  not  give 
the  shadow  of  a  just  reason  for  so  stupid  and  irrational  a 
regulation  ;  and  the  head-man  had  the  effrontery  after  I  had 
paid  him  my  dollar,  to  ask  for  a  rial  or  two  more  to  pay  the 
negroes  for  bringing  along  the  baggage  !  This  quite  exhausted 
my  stock  of  patience,  which  had  already  suffered  such  heavy 
drafts,  and  I  promptly  told  him  that  I  would  not  pay  him  ni 
un  ochavo  mas,  not  the  quarter  part  of  a  cent  more,  and  got  into 
my  boat  which  was  waiting  for  me.  On  seeing  my  decision, 
and  despairing  of  further  successful  sponging,  he  bade  me  a  very 
polite  a'dios,  and  went  off. 

The  passengers  are  about  forty  cabin,  and  fifteen  or  twenty 
forward-deck  passengers.  They  are  a  coarse,  rough,  vocifer 
ating  set  in  general,  though,  for  aught  I  know,  there  may  be 
some  true  gentlemen  among  them  ;  they  are  playing  cards 
continually,  and  for  considerable  sums  of  money,  and  their 
loud  contentious  talking,  rude,  profane  jests,  and  oaths,  make 
the  boat  a  perfect  hurly-burly  of  confusion  and  turmoil. 
Smoking  continually,  in  bed  and  out  of  it,  day  and  night,  is 
their  constant  employment. 

We  left  the  anchorage  at  Batabano  about  midnight,  and 
this  morning  were  in  among  small  keys,  and  on  banks  of  only 
about  nine  feet  depth  of  water,  sometimes  seeing  the  bottom 
very  clearly.  We  have  the  wind  ahead,  and  this  with  a 
miserable,  weak  engine,  and  a  crazy  old  boat  of  some  fifteen 
years  of  age,  makes  our  progress  of  a  snail-paced  slowness. 
But  through  a  gracious  providence  I  journey  safely  on,  and 
thus  it  will  be  till  my  pilgrimage  below  is  done. 

"  I'll  go  and  come,  nor  fear  to  die, 
'Till  from  on  high  Thou  call  me  home." 

Trinidad  de  Cuba,  Dec.  19tk,  1843. —  Tuesday  evening. — . 
Here,  by  the  blessing  of  Grod,  I  was  permitted  to  arrive  on 
Friday  morning  the  8th  instant.  I  am  comfortably  settled  in 
hired  lodgings,  and  take  my  meals  for  the  present  at  the  house 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.         307 

of  an  American  gentleman  near  by,  to  whom  I  came  recom 
mended.  I  find  the  climate  delightful,  and  am  praising  God 
that  I  have  found  so  pleasant  a  resting-place. 

Sabbath  evening,  Dec.  24th,  Christmas  Eve. — A  pleasant 
Sabbath,  spent  almost  entirely  in  the  retirement  of  my  own 
rooms.  Have  enjoyed  prayer,  and  reading  my  precious  Bible. 
Oh,  what  an  unspeakable  privilege  it  is  to  feel — to  know — that 
G-od  is  my  friend,  and  to  be  able,  at  all  times,  to  approach 
his  mercy  seat,  pleading  the  name  and  merits  of  Jesus,  my 
blessed  Redeemer.  Both  mercy  and  judgment  have  I  ex 
perienced  this  year,  which  is  about  to  close.  I  have  suffered 
much  with  my  distressing  disorder  ;  but,  oh  !  how  greatly  has 
the  goodness  of  the  Lord  abounded  towards  me.  I  have  been 
at  length  permitted  to  obtain  my  medical  diploma — to  enjoy 
much  in  the  society  of  my  dear  relatives  ;  and  now,  brought 
in  safety  through  many  perils  to  this  delightful  climate,  where 
my  health  is  improving,  and  where,  I  hope,  in  due  time,  I 
may  be  enabled  to  practise  my  profession.  May  I,  oh  Lord, 
be  prepared  for  all  the  events  of  the  coming  year,  and  be 
enabled  to  commence  it  in  thy  fear  and  love,  and  with  earnest 
efforts  to  live  to  thy  glory. 

Sabbath  evening,  Dec.  31st,  1843.— The  last  day  of  the 
old  year  and  the  first  of  a  new,  are  appropriate  periods  of 
solemn  reflection  and  a  grateful  acknowledgment  of  past 
mercies  and  sparing  goodness.  u  Hitherto  hath  the  Lord 
helped  me  ;"  and  I  would  joyfully  praise  him  for  his  loving 
kindness  and  tender  mercy,  and  cheerfully  commit  to  him  the 
disposal  of  all  future  scenes  and  events  ;  and  oh,  may  his 
grace  be  sufficient  for  me  in  every  trial  and  emergency,  to 
which  I  may  be  called. 

January  24^,  1 844. — My  health  continues  to  improve.  I 
am  surrounded  with  every  comfort,  and  though  without  any 
dear  friend  near  me,  I  am  in  a  state  of  happy  peace  and 
equanimity  of  mind — happy,  unspeakably  happy,  in  the  pos 
session  and  knowledge  of  that  One  Friend,  who,  above  all 


308  MEMOKIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

others,  well  deserves  the  name  of  friend.  I  am  permitted 
often  to  hear  from  my  dear  friends  at  home  by  letters  and 
papers,  and  this  greatly  assuages  the  pain  of  separation  from 
them.  I  hope,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  that  I  shall,  after  a 
time,  work  my  way  into  practice  in  this  city  ;  but  I  shall  be 
obliged,  in  about  a  month,  to  take  a  journey  to  Havana,  there 
to  be  examined  and  approved  by  the  Protomedicato  of  that 
city.  I  dread  the  undertaking,  both  on  account  of  its  trouble 
and  great  expense,  which  will  be  about  three  hundred  dollars  ; 
but  the  sooner  it  is  over  the  better,  as  it  must  be  accomplished 
if  I  would  practise  freely. 

In  this  connection  there  are  letters  to  relatives  in 
the  United  States,  which,  omitting  the  particular  re 
membrances  to  friends,  and  other  private  matters, 
supply  important  intermediate  links  to  these  journal 
izing  memorials.  The  following  is  from  one  to  his 
Sister,  dated, 

Trinidad  de  Cuba,  Dec.  12th,  1843. 

By  the  Cordelia,  which  sails  to-morrow  morning  direct  for 
Boston,  I  am  enabled,  through  the  Lord's  great  goodness,  to 
announce  to  you  my  safe  arrival  at  this  pleasant,  neat  little 
city,  and  the  happy  termination  of  all  my  perils,  fatigues,  and 
trials,  by  sea  and  by  land,  in  coming  hitherward.  The  Lord  is 
good  and  gracious  to  me,  both  in  temporal  and  spiritual  things, 
and,  I  trust,  will  make  all  work  together  for  my  best  good.  I 
am  pleasantly  lodged  in  a  room  that  I  have  hired  for  six 
dollars  a  month,  procured  for  me  by  my  kind  countryman, 
Mr.  Win.  S.  Lynn,  to  whom  I  had  letters  of  introduction 
from  New  York.  My  room  is  in  the  same  street  with  Mr. 
Lynn's  house,  and  but  a  few  doors  distant ;  and  until  I  can 
make  an  arrangement  in  regard  to  my  meals,  he  has  most, 
hospitably  invited  me  to  take  them  at  his  house,  which  I  am 
very  pleasantly  doing, 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          309 

The  climate  here  is  delightful,  and  every  body  unites  in 
the  opinion  that  it  is  the  healthiest  spot  on  the  Island  of 
Cuba,  and  probably  in  all  the  West  Indies.  My  health  has 
improved  greatly,  and  I  have  gained  six  pounds  since  I 
arrived  in  Havana. 

Trinidad  de  Cuba,  Jan.  ls£,  1844,  Monday-  evening. 
MOST  DEARLY  BELOVED  BROTHER — A  very  happy  New 
Year  to  you,  and  may  you  enjoy  many,  very  many  years  of 
happiness,  even  to  a  good  old  age  spent  in  a  career  of  eminent 
usefulness  and  devotion  to  the  service  of  our  blessed  Re 
deemer.  My  mind  is  brimful  of  things  to  say  to  you — facts, 
ideas,  circumstances,  doings,  and  observations,  crowding  for 
utterance,  which  it  would  require  many  hours  and  many  sheets 
fully  to  record.  You  ask  me  to  tell  you  when  I  write,  of  my 
spiritual  health.  This  I  will  do,  and  gratefully  record  the 
Lord's  goodness  towards  me.  Since  I  left  New  York,  I  have 
enjoyed  an  almost  uninterrupted  and  delightful  measure  of 
happy,  confiding  trust  in  God,  and  a  blessed  calmness  and 
tranquillity  in  committing  all  my  interests  for  time  and  eter 
nity  into  his  hands.  I  do  not  know  that  ever  in  any  period 
of  my  life,  I  have  more  fully  felt  the  unspeakable  blessedness 
— the  solid,  abiding  comfort,  of  a  hope  in  our  dear  Redeemer, 
and  the  rich  privileges  which  the  humblest  of  his  disciples  may 
enjoy,  if  they  will  but  use  them.  I  feel  constrained  to  the 
deepest  pity  for  men  around  me,  who  seek  their  portion  only 
in  this  world,  and  particularly  for  poor  invalids  who  are  with 
out  those  consolations  and  hopes  of  the  Grospel,  which,  to  me, 
are  so  precious  ;  and  I  sometimes  ask  myself,  What,  oh  !  what 
should  I  do  without  them  ?  "  Oh,  that  all  these  blind  but 
knew  him,  and  would  be  advised  by  me."  I  had  some  sad, 
perplexing,  annoying,  and  most  anxious  days  at  Havana,  but 
I  was  enabled,  with  deep  earnestness,  to  commit  my  way 
unto  the  Lord ;  and  even  now  can  I  see  that  he  was  tenderly 
making  all  things  to  work  for  my  best  good,  even  what  seemed 


310  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

bitter  and  contrary  in  the  endurance  ;  and  what  I  know  not 
now,  I  shall  know  hereafter,  of  the  wonderful  workings  of  his 
gracious  Providence  and  mercy.  It  is  true  that  he  that  ob- 
serveth  providences,  shall  have  many  wonderful  providences 
to  observe.  Our  Lord  is  merciful  and  gracious — ah  !  in 
finitely  gracious  above  all  that  we  can  imagine  or  conceive, 
blessed  be  his  name. 

"  From  evil  secure  and  its  dread, 

1  rest  if  my  Saviour  be  nigh  ; 
And  songs  his  kind  presence  indeed, 

Shall  in  the  night  season  supply. 
His  smiles  and  his  comforts  abound, 

His  grace  as  the  dew  shall  descend ; 
And  walls  of  salvation  surround, 

The  soul  he  delights  to  defend." 

Oh  !  dear  brother,  alone  as  I  am  in  this  foreign  land,  with 
wastes  of  ocean,  and  thousands  of  miles  intervening  between 
me  and  all  my  dear  earthly  kindred  and  best  friends,  how 
blessed,  when  I  awake  in  the  silent  watches  of  the  night,  to 
be  enabled  to  lift  my  heart  to  God,  and  to  feel  that  "  A  sove 
reign  protector  I  have,  Unseen,  yet  forever  at  hand  !"  Trials 
and  discipline  I  have — trials  and  discipline  I  expect  to  have, 
as  long  as  I  remain  in  this  world  ;  but  I  will  bless  the  Lord 
of  the  way  for  the  gracious,  sweet  refreshment,  which  he  pro- 
videth  for  humble,  weary  pilgrims.  May  I  ever  thus  be  fed, 
and  be  kept  humble  and  happy,  near  my  Divine  Keeper. 

And  now,  having  spoken  of  the  spiritual,  I  will  come 
down  out  of  Beulah,  and  speak  of  the  temporal.  First  of  all, 
my  dearest  brother,  I  thank  thee  from  my  inmost  heart  for 
all  the  tender  kindness,  watchful  care,  and  generous  subsidies 
which  you  have  ever  so  abundantly  imparted  to  me,  and  par 
ticularly  in  my  preparation  for  this  voyage  and  absence. 
May  the  Lord  bless  and  reward  thee.  My  health  is  greatly 
improving,  but  I  do  not  expect  a  sudden  cure.  It  is  one  of 
the  finest  climates  in  the  world  for  asthma,  and  diseases  of  the 


OF  NATHAJS1EL  CHEEVER,  M.D.         311 

throat  and  lungs.  Indeed,  the  climate  is  magnificent.  Not 
one  entire  cloudy  day  since  I  arrived.  I  have  not  known  the 
thermometer  below  72°.  I  told  you  in  my  last  that  I  had 
bought  a  young  horse.  He  is  perfectly  kind  and  gentle,  and 
has  a  variety  of  very  easy,  pleasant  paces.  I  have  named  him 
"  Benito."  I  ride  as  much  as  I  can — often  before  breakfast, 
and  sometimes  in  the  afternoon,  between  five  and  six  o'clock, 
and  find  it  extremely  beneficial  to  my  health.  I  am  trying, 
if  possible,  to  get  a  provisional  licence  from  the  Subdelegado 
of  the  Havana  Protomedicato,  at  this  place,  Dr.  Gallo,  to  prac 
tise  my  profession  for  a  year  or  so,  until  I  can  see  whether 
I  remain  in  the  country.  Grood-bye,  dearest  Hermano. 

Trinidad  de  Cuba,  Jan.  IQth,  1844. 

DEARLY  BELOVED  BROTHER. — If  I  could  I  would  express 
the  sweet  pleasure  and  happiness,  which  the  receipt  of  your 
last  precious  budget  of  letters  and  papers  has  afforded  me. 
All  arrived  safe  yesterday,  by  the  weekly  mail,  from  Havana. 
Dear  E's  and  Mother's  letters  are  a  sweet  treat,  and  your  long 
letter  and  the  subsequent  one  have  done  me  good  like  a  medi 
cine.  Do  write  me  often  such,  for  it  is  inexpressible  the  de 
light  that  such  letters  afford  to  one  situated  as  I  am.  In 
reading  those  precious  letters  yesterday,  my  heart  was  wild  and 
turbulent  with  joy,  and  tears  of  gratitude  came  into  my  eyes 
at  finding  the  delightful  news  of  the  health  and  happiness  of 
you  all,  the  safe  return  of  my  good  friend  Captain  E.,  and  the 
various  items  of  indescribable  interest  which  they  contained. 
My  only  lack  on  such  occasions  is  some  dear  one,  mutually  in 
terested  with  myself,  with  whom  to  participate,  and  pour  out 
the  exuberance  of  my  delighted  and  elastic  spirits.  My  vital 
mental  electricity  needs  a  conductor  to  exhaust  itself  by  ; 
for  at  times,  the  charge  is  so  excessive  that  I  am  ready  to  ex 
plode  with  the  very  excitement  of  joyful  emotion.  My  friends 
may  all  be  assured  that  I  often  think  of  them,  and  I  give  you 
a  carte  blanche  of  remembrance  to  all  who  may  kindly  inquire 
for  me. 


312  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE   LIFE 

There  is  a  good  deal  of  writing  that  I  wish  very  much  to  do, 
and  studies  and  reading  to  accomplish  ;  but,  perhaps,  my  good 
intentions  will  never  be  fulfilled.  Nevertheless,  I  will  still 
aim  at  their  accomplishment ;  I  will  aim  high,  and  then  if  I 
fall  short  of  my  mark,  I  shall  still  be  nearer  to  it  than  if  I  had 
fired  low.  I  am  never  at  a  loss  for  the  employment  of  my 
time  in  a  manner  that  may  either  increase  the  stores  of  my 
memory,  strengthen  my  understanding,  or  improve  my  heart. 
The  thing  I  now  greatly  desire  is  that  some  portion  of  my 
time  may  be  employed  in  a  manner  that  shall  swell  my  purse, 
dilate  its  shrunken  integuments,  and  fill  it  up  soundly  and  fairly 
with  adipose  tissue  of  my  own  elaboration — the  real  unguento 
de  Mexico — that  magic  ointment  which,  rightly  used,  doth 
most  wonderfully  soothe  and  allay  the  chronic  irritation  caused 
by  a  collapsed  money-bag,  the  too  near  approximation  of  its 
internal  parietes. 

My  countrymen,  of  whom  I  spoke  to  you  in  my  last  letter, 
as  about  hiring  with  me  the  house  in  which  are  my  rooms, 
have  taken  it,  and  we  are  now  keeping  bachelor's  hall — a  mode 
of  living,  which,  as  circumstances  are,  is  the  most  comfort 
able  we  could  adopt  in  this  hotel-less  city. 

There  are  three  besides  myself.  We  have  an  old  Italian 
for  our  cook,  who  says  he  was  in  Napoleon's  grand  army  in 
Egypt ;  has  lived  in  the  United  States,  and  understands  how 
to  cook  to  suit  American  tastes.  We  get  along  very  har 
moniously  together,  and  call  our  establishment  "  American 
Hall."  Mr.  B,.  says  he  wont  allow  it  to  be  called  Bachelor's 
Hall,  for  he  has  a  wife  and  two  children,  the  only  married  man 
of  our  number.  We  talk  of  being  patriotic,  and  celebrating 
Washington's  birth-day  with  a  roast  turkey  !  I  have  the 
same  rooms  as  before,  a  bed-room  and  a  front-room,  which  I 
will  be  so  professional,  if  you  please,  as  to  call  my  "  office." 
I  pay  the  same  proportion  of  rent  as  before,  eight  dollars  per 
month,  and  am  here  "  monarch  of  all  I  survey."  I  can 
hardly  realize  that  it  is  the  month  of  January,  when  I 


M.D.  313 

see  roses  in  full  bloom,  and  various  other  flowers,  and  ripo 
figs,  and  other  fruit,  upon  the  trees.  But  we  are  within 
the  tropics,  under  a  tropical  sun,  and  a  tropical  vegetation  is 
all  around  us.  I  find  too  that  one's  clothing  must  be  adapted 
to  the  latitude  of  the  tropics.  I  have  not  worn  a  thick  coat 
more  than  three  or  four  days  since  I  arrived  at  Trinidad.  I 
have  had  to  cast  aside  my  woollen  mattress,  and  I  now  sleep 
"  a  la  Cubano,"  on  a  plain  catre,  or  cot-bedstead,  with  a  linen 
sacking  bottom.  My  horse  "  Benito,"  is  a  great  comfort  to 
me,  and  I  often  wish  you  could  be  my  companion  in  some  of 
my  pleasant  rides  upon  him,  under  the  lovely  sky  of  this 
delightful  climate.  My  expenses  now,  including  "  Benito  V7 
keeping,  will  be  from  $35  to  $40  a  month. 

Trinidad  de  Cuba,  Feb.  5th,  1844. 

DEARLY  BELOVED  BROTHER — I  am  reading  D'Aubigne's 
History  of  the  Reformation  with  the  deepest  interest.  What 
a  noble,  glorious  fellow  Luther  was !  Oh,  that  some  such 
might  arise  in  these  and  other  beautiful  regions  of  the 
earth,  still  cursed  with  the  hateful  darkness  of  Popery,  which 
he  was  so  wonderfully  instrumental  in  dispelling  in  other  coun 
tries.  I  sympathize  with  his  spirit.  "  While  I  am  musing 
the  fire  burns  ;"  the  fire  in  my  bones  of  indomitable  oppo 
sition,  everlasting  hatred  to  the  bigotry,  superstition,  tyranny, 
and  ignorance  which  he  so  nobly,  so  gloriously,  and,  blessed 
be  God,  so  successfully  opposed.  I  have  to  set  a  watch  on 
the  door  of  my  lips,  lest,  in  the  heat  of  my  spirit,  and  frank 
ness  of  my  heart,  some  unguarded  expression  may  escape  in 
regard  to  government,  men,  and  manners  here,  which  might 
cost  me  trouble.  Oh,  the  liberty — the  dear,  delightful 
liberty  which  we  enjoy  in  our  beloved  country  !  We  do  not 
prize  it  at  home  as  we  ought ;  but  when  our  citizens  come  to 
countries  like  this,  under  Spanish,  Papal  laws,  then,  ah  then, 
they  see  the  diiference — even  the  irreligious  and  profane — 
between  a  land  where  true  liberty,  civil  and  religious,  and 
14 


MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

equal  laws  exist,  and  a  land  where  they  exist  not.  It  vexes 
and  tries  my  very  soul  when  I  think  of  such  inquisitorial, 
anti-human,  and  anti-Christian  laws ;  and  I  feel  sometimes  as 
though  it  would  be  a  privilege,  if  called  upon,  to  fight  in  order 
to  have  them  utterly  repealed  and  scattered  to  the  winds. 

Making  the  most  of  it  that  you  can,  there  is  but  little 
society  in  Trinidad — I  mean  such  as  I  have  been  accus 
tomed  to  ;  and  of  Christian  society,  so  far  as  I  know,  not 
any.  The  social  state  here  is  somewhat  as  it  was  in 
Malaga.  But  I  will  say  this  for  Trinidad,  and  I  am  in  justice 
bound  to  say  it,  that  in  proportion  to  its  size,  the  state  of 
morals  here  is  far  less  corrupt  than  at  Malaga.  It  is,  indeed, 
about  the  most  quiet,  orderly,  neat  little  city  that  I  was  ever  in. 
Crime  is  of  rare  occurrence,  and  when  found  out  is  promptly 
punished  ;  and,  unlike  Malaga,  it  is  perfectly  safe  riding  out 
anywhere  in  the  vicinity  of  the  city,  as  I  can  testify  from 
numerous  explorations  on  Benito,  both  alone  and  in  com 
pany. 

But,  ah !  I  do  yearn  sometimes  for  a  bosom  friend — one 
who  could  fulfil  Sallust's  concise  and  elegant  definition  of  true 
friendship  :  "  Idem  velle  atque  nolle,  ea  demum  firma  amicitia 
est."  Without  such  a  similarity  of  taste  and  feeling,  how 
can  there  be  intimate  friendship  ?  No  person  here  approaches 
nearer  the  centre  of  my  affections  than  the  very  outermost 
barrier  of  my  heart.  The  middle  barrier  none  have  arrived 
at,  much  less  the  inner.  I  feel  sometimes,  I  confess,  a  little 
low-spirited,  but  it  does  not  last  a  great  while.  The  frequent 
letters  of  you  all  greatly  cheer  me ;  and  I  fervently  thank 
God  1  have  a  blessed  refuge  in  every  sorrow  that  does,  or 
may  befal  me.  With  melting  fervor  can  I  sometimes  most 
earnestly  say  in  Wesley's  beautiful  words  : 

Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly. 

But,  ah  !  I  accomplish  so  little.     Time  is  winging  me  away, 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          315 

and  what  am  I  doing  ?  The  most  that  I  seem  to  have  done 
since  I  came  to  this  island,  has  been  to  write  letters ;  and  of 
these,  small  and  great,  I  have  despatched  to  various  persons 
and  papers  twenty-six,  and  this  will  make  the  twenty-seventh. 
But  various  schemes  of  writing  and  study  are  yet  unaccom 
plished,  and  perhaps  ever  will  be  ;  yet  I  keep  hoping,  and 
hoping,  and  hoping,  and  will  continue  to  hope,  though  "  hope 
deferred  maketh  the  heart  sick." 

Had  I  but  perfect  health,  I  think  I  would  soon  clear  off 
these  old  scores,  and  accomplish  speedily  plans  that  are  now 
but  a  dead  letter.  I  have  mcns  sana,  but  am  far  yet  from 
having  it  with  that  most  desirable  and  invaluable  adjunct  in 
corpore  sano.  My  cough  is  still  very  troublesome,  but  my 
attacks  of  asthma  less  frequent  and  less  violent  than  when  in 
the  States.  The  whole  mucous  membrane  of  my  throat  and 
lungs  is  exceedingly  delicate  and  sensitive,  which  convinces 
me  that  if  I  had  remained  at  the  north  this  winter,  it  might 
have  been,  after  that  period,  forever  too  late  to  experience  any 
benefit  from  a  change  of  climate.  I  think  the  summer  here 
will  be  even  better  for  me  than  the  winter,  for  the  northers 
have  affected  me  rather  unfavorably,  though,  to  a  person 
whose  lungs  are  not  delicate,  they  give  a  fine,  dry,  bracing, 
and  healthy  atmosphere. 

I  pulled  a  tremendous  back  grinder  from  the  jaw  of  one 
of  my  comparieros  at  American  Hall,  on  the  24th  of  January. 
He  was  delighted  with  the  success  of  the  operation,  and 
praised  my  skill  greatly,  for  it  was  a  tooth  that  had  caused 
him  a  deal  of  suffering.  He  has  been  waiting  for  the  gum  to 
get  perfectly  well,  and  on  Monday,  of  this  week,  he  pre 
sented  me  with  five  dollars,  and  says  he  never  paid  money 
more  cheerfully.  I  have  bought  with  this  money  a  table 
spoon  and  a  tea-spoon  for  my  own  use  at  meals.  It  was  a 
sum  exactly  sufficient  for  the  purpose ;  and  I  have  had  the 
date  pf  the  month  and  year  engraved  on  the  back  of  the 
spoons,  January  24th,  1844,  when  I  performed  the  first  dental 


316  MEMOKIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

operation  for  which  I  ever  received  any  compensation.  My 
initials  I  had  put  in  front.  The  spoons  were  just  the  thing 
that  I  needed.  So  you  have  the  history  of  my  first  fee  —  an 
interesting  event  in  the  Diary  of  a  young  Physician.  I  must 
now  ask  for  a  truce  in  my  letter  writing,"  for  this  is  the 
twelfth  to  your  own  dear  self. 


Trinidad  de  Cuba,  Monday  Evening,  Feb.  13£A,  1844. 

MOST  DEARLY  BELOVED  SISTER.  —  As  there  is  to  be  a 
vessel  cleared  for  Portland,  to-morrow,  I  will  commence  this 
evening  a  letter  to  the  beloved  "Duet"  under  "the  Elm 
Tree."  I  thank  you  for  all  your  sweet,  welcome  letters,  and 
dear  Mother,  for  her  precious  addition  to  your  noble,  long 
epistle  of  Dec.  15th,  1843.  I  entreat  you  both  to  favor  me 
with  such  ones  often,  for  what  in  regard  to  your  dear  selves 
will  not  be  of  the  deepest  interest  to  your  beloved  self-exiled 
brother,  in  this  foreign  land  ?  I  often  lay  awake  after  re 
tiring  at  night  to  my  solitary  cot,  and  in  my  pleasant  musings 
excogitate  matter  enough  for  the  construction  of  two  or  three 
epistles  of  the  largest  size. 

I  received  the  Address  on  President  Marsh,  last  week,  and 
have  already  devoured,  with  eager  interest,  the  whole  of  it. 
Mr.  Choate's  eloquent  New  England  address  I  have  also  read 
with  great  admiration  in  the  columns  of  the  "  Evangelist." 
What  a  bombshell,  that  one  innocent  sentence  of  our  fathers 
finding  at  Geneva,  "  A  church  without  a  bishop,  and  a  state 
without  a  king,"  has  proved  !  I  see  you  have  all  been  nearly 
frozen  up  at  the  north,  and  I  am  most  thankful  that  I  am  not 
there,  but  here,  quietly  basking  under  the  fervent  sun  of  this 
lovely,  tropical  climate.  It  is  indeed  a  most  admirable  and 
delightful  spot  for  invalids  with  pulmonary  or,  I  might  say, 
with  almost  any  complaint.  To  all  I  would  most  strongly  re 
commend  a  trial  of  its  benignant  virtues.  Love  unutterable  to 
dear  Mother.  May  our  gracious  Lord  be  with,  and  bless  us 
all,  and  keep  us  as  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  I  feel  daily  the 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          317 

blessedness  of  his  protection,  and  the  strong  consolation  of  his 
covenant  love.  And  yet,  I  often  sigh  for  the  sweet,  sympa 
thizing  society  of  congenial  Christian  friends,  of  those  whose 
countenances  and  conversation  may  stir  the  innermost  depths 
of  my  being  ;  for  after  all,  letters,  though  a  grateful  solace, 
are  but  a  laborious,  pains-taking,  inadequate  substitute,  for 
that  swift,  electric  interchange  of  thought  and  feeling,  which 
can  take  place  only  face  to  face. 

About  the  same  period  with  these  dates  are  the  fol 
lowing  entries  in  the  Private  Journal. 

Thursday  Evening,  Feb.  9th. — I  would  gratefully  record  the 
goodness  of  God  in  preserving  me  this  day,  from  what  might 
otherwise  have  been  a  very  severe  accident,  or  even  a  fatal 
one.  In  going  slowly  around  a  corner,  during  my  ride  this 
afternoon,  my  horse  slipped  upon  a  smooth  stone,  and  in  an 
instant  fell  entirely  down,  rolling  a  little  to  one  side.  I  was 
thrown  off,  but  immediately  regained  my  feet,  with  no  other 
injury  than  a  slight  bruise  of  my  left  ankle,  which  this  evening 
feels  somewhat  painful.  How  easily,  but  for  a  Divine  Pro 
vidence,  might  1  have  broken  my  leg,  or  been  otherwise  very 
seriously  injured.  Oh,  that  I  may  be  spared  yet,  for  great 
usefulness  in  this  world,  but  above  all,  prepared  for  a  happy 
exchange  of  worlds,  whenever  I  may  be  called.  Thousands 
of  unseen  dangers,  we  are  doubtless  every  moment  preserved 
from,  that  without  the  restraint  and  superintendance  of  an 
almighty  hand,  would  continually  work  our  destruction. 

Havana,  March  21th,  1844. — I  left  Trinidad  on  the  fifth, 
and  arrived  here  on  the  seventh.  Have  made  as  yet  but  little 
progress  in  my  medical  matters,  though  I  have  done  all  I 
can. 

The  delay  and  expense  are  grievous  ;  and  how  doubtful  is 
my  life  !  But  we  must  act  as  though  we  expected  to  live, 
although  we  may  be  taken  from  the  world  at  any  moment. 
The  vis  vitee  and  the  vis  mortis  seem  to  struggle  hard  together 


318  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

in  my  system,  and  I  sometimes  feel  as  though  the  latter 
would  soon  conquer.  The  Lord  prepare  me  for  any  event. 
My  trials  are  great.  Oh,  that  I  may  be  purified,  though  it  be 
as  by  fire. 

There  is  a  young  gentleman  staying  at  the  house  where  I 
now  am,  Hotel  de  San  Carlos,  who,  it  is  refreshing  to 
my  spirit  to  find,  is  a  member  of  the  Methodist  Church  in 
Brooklyn,  and  a  hopeful  Christian.  We  have  prayed,  and 
talked,  and  sung  together  some  of  the  sweet  songs  of  Zion  ; 
and  this,  I  may  say,  is  the  first  really  Christian  communion 
and  fellowship  that  I  have  enjoyed  since  I  left  New  York. 
He  is  an  invalid,  affected  with  chronic  bronchitis ;  we  feel  a 
sympathy  for  each  other,  and  are  much  together. 

Havana,  April  16th,  1844. 

MOST  DEAR  AND  HONORED  MOTHER. — You  will  have 
learned,  I  trust,  long  ere  this  reaches  you,  by  my  long  letter 
to  dear  George,  of  my  arrival  at  this  city,  and  the  object  of 
my  visit  at  this  time.  Thanks  be  unto  God,  I  would  devoutly 
say,  that  object  is  this  day  happily  accomplished;  I  have 
undergone  three  rigid  examinations,  all  in  Spanish,  on  as  many 
different  days  ;  this  morning  I  had  the  final  one,  and  have  this 
day  been  approved  by  the  Protomedicato  of  the  Royal  Uni 
versity  of  Havana  !  I  feel  now  in  better  spirits  to  write  my 
dear  friends,  than  I  have  for  a  long  time,  for  a  load  is  removed 
from  my  mind  that  has  been  pressing  upon  it  with  weary 
weight  for  a  long,  long  season. 

Notwithstanding  the  delays,  harassments,  anxieties,  and 
trials,  of  various  kinds,  that  I  have  experienced  since  I  have 
been  here,  my  health  has  improved  very  much.  It  is  six 
weeks  to-morrow  since  I  arrived,  and  I  have  had  no  regular, 
fresh  attack  of  asthma  ;  my  cough  has  been  a  part  of  the  time 
very  trying,  but  is  now  somewhat  better,  and  my  chest  feels 
much  stronger  than  it  did  a  month  since. 

Dear  E.  inquires  how  I  spend  my  Sabbaths  ;  I  generally 
spend  them  in  the  retirement  of  my  own  room,  reading  my 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          319 

precious  Bible,  and  other  good  books,  and  praying  to  that 
blessed  God  and  Saviour,  who  is  equally  near  to  all  that  love 
Him,  in  all  parts  of  His  dominions.  My  Sabbaths  are  some 
times  interrupted,  and  can  hardly  be  otherwise  in  this  Sab 
bath-profaning  country  ;  but  I  endeavor  to  get  along  in  the 
best  way  I  can,  in  the  circumstances  in  which  I  am  placed, 
and  I  am  often  blessed  with  sweet  and  precious  seasons. 

I  have  heard  one  very  good  sermon  since  I  arrived  here, 
preached  on  board  the  "  Potomac"  by  the  chaplain,  and  this 
is  the  only  original  sermon  that  I  have  heard  since  I  left  New 
York.  I  can,  indeed,  most  feelingly  say  with  David  some 
times,  that  u  My  soul  longeth,  yea,  even  fainteth  for  the 
courts  of  the  Lord  ;  my  heart  and  my  flesh  crieth  out  for  the 
living  God."  "  When  shall  I  come,  and  appear  before  God" 
in  his  earthly  courts  in  a  Christian  Protestant  land  ?  Ah  ! 
when  !  when  !  I  entreat  you  both  to  write  me  often  Letters 
from  my  dear  friends  in  this  far  land  are  a  rich  consolation, 
and  they  assuage  greatly  the  pains  of  separation.  Ever  your 
dutiful  and  affectionate  son. 

The  tale  of  his  experience  in  the  Havana  Medical 
University  was  sent  soon  after  to  Dr.  Parker,  and  by 
him  published  in  the  Boston  Medical  and  Surgical 
Journal  of  August  21st,  1844,  under  the  title  of 


Havana,  April  25tk,  1844. 

DEAR  SIR. — Thinking  that  it  may  be  of  some  interest  to 
you  to  know  the  course  of  the  Medical  Examination,  to  which 
foreign  Physicians  are  subjected,  before  they  can  legally 
practise  on  this  island  ;  I  have  thought  that  I  would  give  you 
the  particulars  of  the  late  formalities  and  examinations  through 
which  1  have  passed  at  the  Royal  University  of  this  city. 

In  the  first  place,  I  would  say,  that  in  commencing  this 
undertaking,  the  candidate  should  provide  himself  with  an 


320  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

almost  inexhaustible  stock  of  PATIENCE  ;  for  the  annoyances, 
formalities,  and  vexatious  delays,  which  he  will  meet,  will 
very  soon  drain  anything  like  a  moderate  supply  of  that  most 
necessary  and  useful  attribute  of  mind.  I  arrived  here  from 
Trinidad  on  the  7th  of  March,  and  it  was  not  until  the  12th 
of  April,  that  with  all  my  efforts  I  could  get  a  day  named  for 
my  examination.  It  is  true  that  the  occurrence  of  the  Semana 
Santa,  or  Holy  Week,  and  a  number  of  other  holydays,  oc 
casioned  a  loss  of  time  that,  perhaps,  might  not  have  other 
wise  taken  place.  But  holydays,  or  no  holydays,  there  will  be 
detention  and  constant  delay ;  "  poco  a  poco,  manana,  manana, 
little  by  little,  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow,"  is,  I  may  say,  the  un 
varying  course  of  Spanish 'tribunals.  Many  a  valuable  to-mor 
row  and  "  day  after  to-morrow"  comes  and  goes,  and  t&  your 
grief  and  cost  do  you  find  that  your  business  is  no  nearer  to  a 
conclusion  than  before,  but  remains  in  statu  quo. 

The  first  thing,  if  the  individual  has  not  already 
done  it,  is  to  take  out  a  "  carta  de  domicilio,"  giving  him 
authority  to  remain  in  the  island,  and  establish  himself  where 
he  may  choose  in  the  practice  of  his  profession.  This  requires 
about  three  days,  and  costs,  if  one  understands  the  language, 
and  can  manage  the  matter  for  himself,  four  dollars  and  a  half; 
if  he  is  obliged  to  hire  another  to  do  it  for  him,  it  will  cost  him 
a  couple  more.  Next,  he  must  make  a  petition,  in  due  form, 
to  the  President  of  the  Subinspection  of  Studies,  who  is  the 
Captain  General  himself,  praying  that  his  Excellency  will 
deign  to  give  the  necessary  order,  to  the  end  that  he  may  be 
legally  qualified  for  the  exercise  of  his  profession  upon  this 
island,  This  petition  must  be  handed  to  the  Secretary  of  the 
Subinspector  of  Studies,  and  be  laid  before  the  Junta,  or 
Medical  Council,  before  it  can  be  acted  upon. 

This  grave  body  meets  but  once  a  week,  on  Wednesday 
evening,  and  I  suppose  no  earthly  consideration  would  make 
them  meet  any  oftener.  The  carta  de  domicilio  and  the 
diploma  of  the  candidate  must  be  also  laid  before  the  Junta, 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          321 

the  latter  being  previously  certified  by  the  American  Consul, 
which  costs  two  dollars.  The  Junta  meet,  and  the  papers 
being  laid  before  them  in  due  form,  they  order  that  the  candi 
date  proceed  to  take  the  necessary  steps  for  the  attainment  of 
his  object.  After,  perhaps,  a  couple  of  weeks,  and  sometimes 
double  and  treble  that  number,  the  candidate  is  ordered  to 
prove  his  identity  in  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Subin- 
spection  of  Studies.  That  is,  to  prove  by  three  good  witnesses, 
that  he  is  the  individual  spoken  of  in  the  diploma,  and  no 
other  ;  to  prove,  as  a  gentleman  who  went  as  witness  with  me, 
facetiously  remarked,  "  que  usted  es  usted,"  that  you  are  you. 
Your  witnesses  must  be  natives  of  your  own  country,  American 
citizens,  known  and  established  in  this  city,  and  must  have 
been  acquainted  with  you  at  least  for  some  considerable  time. 
They  are  examined  separately,  and  a  clerk  formally  takes 
down  the  deposition  of  each  one  in  writing. 

After  all  the  ceremony  is  finished,  the  Secretary  of  the  Sub- 
inspection  of  Studies  writes  an  official  letter  to  the  Rector  of 
the  University,  stating  that  having  gone  through  all  the  neces 
sary  formalities  in  his  office,  he  now  sends  you  to  undergo  the 
requisite  examinations  at  the  Royal  University.  And  here  be 
gins  somewhat  deeply  "  la  funcion  del  dinero,"  the  play  of  the 
money,  which  is  anything  but  amusing  to  the  person  that  has 
it  to  pay.  The  derechos,  or  fees,  at  this  office  are  twenty 
dollars.  I  paid  my  money,  took  the  official  despatch,  and  re 
paired  immediately  to  the  University,  where  I  delivered  it  in 
the  Secretary's  office,  and  by  insisting  somewhat,  I  at  last  ob 
tained  the  appointment  of  the  next  day,  the  13th  of  April,  at 
one  o'clock,  for  my  first  examination.  The  Rector  appoints 
three  examiners  from  among  the  professors  of  the  University, 
and  the  Subinspection  of  Studies  sends  one  as  a  delegate  from 
their  body. 

On  the  day  of  the  first  examination,  previous  to  that  act,  I 
had  to  make  the  following  heavy  deposits,  viz,  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  dollars  paid  into  the  Treasury  of  the 


322  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

University,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars 
to  be  paid  into  the  hands  of  the  Beadle,  to  be  dis 
tributed  by  him  among  the  examiners,  for  both  of  which- 
sums  receipts  were  given  me,  which  I  had  to.  deliver  to  the 
Secretary  before  entering  the  hall  of  examination.  At  last 
the  hour  arrived,  and  my  cane  being  duly  taken  from  me  at 
the  door  by  one  of  the  porters,  and  duly  placed  in  the  corner 
with  the  other  gold-headed,  wise-looking,  doctorial  canes,  I 
was  ushered  by  the  Beadle  into  the  august  presence  of  my 
dignified  examiners. 

The  Beadle  is  an  exceedingly  important  and  busy  person 
age  on  these  occasions  ;  he  is  master  of  ceremonies,  ushers 
you  in  and  out,  and  sits  by  your  side  during  the  whole  of  the 
examination,  and  is  in  fact  a  sort  of  body-guard,  or  constable, 
to  see  that  you  do  not  infringe  on  any  of  those  sacred  rules  of 
etiquette  and  formality,  in  the  observance  of  which  the 
Spaniards  have  ever  been  so  excessively  punctilious.  None 
but  a  black  dress,  I  was  duly  informed,  beforehand,  by  the  il 
lustrious  Beadle,  would  be  considered  de.  ctequeta  ;  so  I  took 
care  to  go  diplomatically  arrayed,  vestido  de  negro,  from  head 
to  foot. 

The  room  for  examination  is  a  large  and  very  stately  one, 
hung  with  crimson,  and  at  the  end  opposite  the  door  of  en 
trance,  is  the  stage  or  pulpit  for  the  Rector,  over  which  hangs 
a  portrait  of  the  young  Queen  of  Spain.  A  row  of  permanent 
arm-chairs,  for  the  examiners,  extends  from  each  side  of  the 
pulpit  towards  the  door,  and  at  the  end  of  these,  between  the 
two  rows,  is  a  table  and  seat  covered  with  red  cloth,  and  upon 
this  the  poor  wight  of  a  candidate  is  placed,  as  a  fair  target  to 
be  shot  at  from  both  sides,  without  even  a  back  or  a  side  to 
his  seat,  or  a  single  object  to  conceal  his  bashfulness  or 
mortification,  should  some  unlucky  missile  but  too  sorely 
wound  him. 

I  had  been  seated  but  a  few  moments  when  the  Rev.  Rector, 
attired  in  full  canonicals,  black  surplice  and  gown,  lace-cuffs, 


.  OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          323 

and  collar,  entered  and  took  his  chair  of  state.  My  watchful 
guardian,  the  Beadle,  ordered  me  to  rise  as  he  passed,  and  on 
my  attempting,  without  further  honors,  to  sit  down  again,  he 
told  me  not  to  sit  down  until  his  lordship,  sa  usia,  was  seated. 
"When  the  Very  Reverend  Senior  was  comfortably  composed 
in  his  seat,  the  Dean  of  the  Faculty,  Dr.  C.  V,,  rang  a  little 
bell  and  called  for  "  los  expedientes,"  that  is,  the  different 
papers  showing  that  I  had  duly  taken  all  the  legal  steps  and 
formalities  conforme  d  lo  despuerto,  to  arrive  at  the  surely 
not  enviable  position  I  was  then  occupying.  Probably  the 
most  important  of  these  expedients  were  the  receipts,  showing 
that  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  were  safe  in  the  coffers 
of  the  University,  and  in  the  important  hands  of  the  punc 
tilious  Beadle. 

I  confess  that  at  the  first  examination  all  this  formality, 
dignity,  ceremony  and  etiquette,  quite  surprised  and  confound 
ed  me.  Unlike,  also,  our  strictly  private  examinations,  these 
are  free  to  the  public,  and  a  number  of  the  Students  of  the 
University  were  present,  the  door  of  the  hall  being  wide  open. 
The  Beadle,  too,  lost  no  occasion  of  scrupulously  demonstrat 
ing  the  importance  of  his  functions  ;  in  the  course  of  the  ex 
amination,  noticing  that  I  used,  in  replying  to  the  professors, 
the  word  usted,  you,  the  usual  very  respectful  mode  of  ad 
dress  among  Spaniards,  he  whispered  to  me,  in  a  low  voice, 
and  told  me  that  I  must  there  use  the  word  usia,  your  honor, 
your  lordship.  I  felt  at  that  moment  little  inclined  to  use 
compliments  with  any  body.  The  noise,  too,  from  the  street, 
through  the  open  door,  was  sometimes  almost  deafening,  and 
I  was  seated  at  such  a  formal  distance  from  my  examiners,  that 
several  times  I  could  not  hear  their  questions  at  all.  However 
the  hour  terminated,  as  all  hours  will,  but  to  me  it  was  an  ex 
cessively  long  and  disagreeable  one.  It  tends,  also,  not  a 
little  to  increase  your  discomfort,  to  know  that  the  hundred 
and  twenty-five  dollars,  paid  to  the  examiners  will  be  entirely 
lost  in  case  they  reject  you ;  for  if  they  give  you  another  trial 


324  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE    LIFE 

some  months  after,  which  they  sometimes  do,  their  fee  has  to 
be  paid  over  again,  in  full  amount,  as  anything  less  than  that 
sum  is  not  considered  a  compensation  for  the  privilege  of 
being  screwed  ! 

The  matters  touched  upon  in  the  examination  were  of 
much  the  same  nature  as  at  our  colleges,  but  they  were  dis 
cussed  with  much  more  length  and  minuteness.  They  ex 
amine  on  everything  pertaining  to  medicine  and  surgery 
except  chemistry — anatomy  and  physiology,  theory  and  prac 
tice  of  medicine,  clinical  medicine  and  surgery,  materia 
medica,  surgical  diseases  and  operations,  obstetrics,  and  all 
matters — which  are  various — that  come  under  the  head  of 
medical  jurisprudence.  Dr.  C.  V.  is  the  professor  of  medi 
cal  jurisprudence,  and  one  of  the  most  accomplished  and 
intelligent  professors  of  the  University.  I  would  cheer 
fully  add,-  too,  that  he  was  decidedly  the  most  affable, 
fair,  and  considerate  of  my  examiners,  and  this  has  generally 
been  the  experience  of  all  the  candidates  when  he  has  been 
one  of  the  board.  A  kind  look,  and  a  candid,  assuring  man 
ner,  in  the  professor  examining,  has  a  wonderful  effect  to 
soothe  and  animate  the  timid,  agitated  pupil.  This  pleasant 
manner  Dr.  C.  V.  most  eminently  possesses,  which  cannot 
be  said  by  any  means  of  all  the  rest. 

The  next  trial  was  appointed  for  the  day  but  one  after, 
Monday,  the  15th  instant,  at  half  past  four  o'clock,  P.  M., 
at  the  Hospital  de  San  Juan  de  Dios.  At  the  appointed  hour 
I  met  the  professors,  and  after  examining  the  medical  case 
which  they  gave  me,  we  all  adjourned  to  the  University,  and  I 
there  passed  another  examen  of  nearly  an  hour.  The  diag 
nosis  of  the  case  which  they  gave  me  was  easy,  for  it  was  a 
young  man  covered  from  head  to  foot  with  the  small  pox, 
some  of  the  pustules  being  now  in  the  drying  stage.  They 
examined  me  minutely  on  the  nature  and  treatment  of  this 
disease,  and  on  contagion  and  infection  in  general,  and  took 
another  ramble  over  all  the  branches  of  medicine  and  surgery. 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          325 

The  third  and  last  examination  was  appointed  for  the  fol 
lowing  morning  at  seven  o'clock,  to  meet  the  professors  again 
at  St.  John's  Hospital,  and  be  given  a  surgical  case  to  ex 
amine  and  be  examined  upon  ;  and  also,  should  there  be  a 
recent  subject,  to  perform  some  operations  upon  the  dead 
body.  There  was  no  cadaver  that  morning,  which  circum 
stance  I  did  not  at  all  regret.  They  showed  me  a  boy  with 
congenital  hare-lip,  and  a  case  of  fracture  of  the  patella ;  and 
after  examining  these,  and  walking  around  the  Hospital,  we 
went  again  to  the  University,  where  I  had  a  minute  exami 
nation  of  thirty-five  minutes  upon  the  cases  I  had  seen;  and 
upon  a  variety  of  other  subjects  besides.  In  the  second  and 
third  examinations,  having  recovered  my  confidence,  and  be 
come  somewhat  accustomed  to  their  formal  mode  of  pro 
cedure,  I  succeeded  much  better  than  in  the  first. 

The  last  examination  being  concluded,  I  was  ushered  out 
by  Monsieur  le  Beadle,  the  door  was  shut,  and  the  Pro 
fessors  went  into  conclave.  In  about  three  minutes  the 
Beadle  came  out,  and  informed  me  that  I  was  approved — 
"  usted  esta  aprobado" — which  were  indeed  cheering  words 
after  all  the  harassing  formalities  and  delays,  and  the  ordeal 
of  three  rigid  examinations  through  which  I  had  passed.  At 
the  conclusion,  I  was  required  to  take  an  oath  of  fidelity  to 
the  Queen  of  Spain,  and  obedience  to  the  Spanish  laws  while 
I  remain  upon  the  island.  This  was  read  to  me  by  the  Dean 
of  the  Faculty,  Dr.  C.  V.,  standing  upon  the  stage  ;  and  here 
again  el  Senor  Beadle,  untiring  in  his  zeal  for  forms,  motioned 
me  to  fall  upon  my  knees  while  the  oath  was  being  read,  but 
the  worthy  Dean,  with  great  consideration,  interrupted  the 
important  official,  and  told  me  it  was  not  necessary. 

On  receiving  the  diploma  or  titulo  which  they  give,  you 
have  to  pay  another  twenty  dollars  into  the  Treasury  of  the 
University,  making,  with  the  certification  of  your  diploma, 
two  hundred  and  ninety-two  dollars.  In  the  course  of  the 
proceedings,  you  will  have  to  use  two  or  three  sheets  of 


326  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

stamped  paper,  at  half  a  dollar  a  sheet ;  and  you  will  find, 
also,  that  notwithstanding  the  enormous  sums  you  have  paid 
to  the  high  functionaries,  the  lazy  porters  at  the  door  will  be 
most  vexatiously  teazing  you  for  a  fee — "  alguna  cosa  para 
refrescar."  Another  dollar  to  them,  together  with  the  "  Let 
ter  of  Domiciliation,"  will  make  the  whole  expenses  amount 
to  very  near  three  hundred  dollars.  Understanding  the 
Spanish  language,  I  did  not  have  to  employ  an  interpreter. 
If  I  had  been  obliged  to  do  so,  it  would  have  been  an  ad 
ditional  expense  of  fifty  dollars,  as  that  is  what  an  American 
physician  now  practising  here  informed  me  he  had  to  pay. 

A  few  years  since  the  examinations  were  a  mere  form,  and 
almost  dispensed  with,  the  payment  of  five  hundred  dollars 
being  by  far  the  most  important  and  essential  formality.  On 
this  old  regime  I  have  been  informed  that  numbers  of  persons 
quite  unqualified  bought  licenses — apothecaries,  barber-sur 
geons,  etc.  About  two  years  since,  the  fees  were  reduced  to 
their  present  rates,  and  the  examinations  commenced  in  good 
earnest ;  and  in  the  month  of  March  just  passed,  the  new 
regulations  concerning  physicians  and  surgeons,  and  all  mat 
ters  relating  to  them,  have  been  published  in  a  pamphlet  form, 
of  which  every  physician  and  surgeon  is  required  to  have  a  copy. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  interesting  to  you  to  know  its  title, 
and  one  or  two  of  its  important  articles.  It  is  called,  u  Reg- 
lamento  de  Medicina  y  Cirujia,  Formado  por  la  Subinspecion 
de  Estudios  de  las  Islas  de  Cuba  y  Puerto  Rico,  y  aprobado 
por  su  Magestad  en  Real  orden  de  tres  de  Enero  de  1844." 
Chapter  IV.,  art.  14,  says:  "  No  persons  can  exercise  in  the 
Islands  of  Cuba  and  Puerto  Rico,  the  profession  of  Medicine 
and  Surgery,  nor  the  branches  of  Dentist,  Bleeder,  and  Mid 
wife,  without  the  corresponding  title  given  to  them  by  the 
competent  authority."  Article  15  :  "  Those  who,  without  a 
legal  title,  shall  exercise  any  branch  of  the  healing  art,  or 
shall  exceed  the  faculties  which  their  title  concedes  to  them, 
shall  be  fined,  the  competent  summary  information  having 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          327 

been  previously  given  by  the  local  judge,  in  the  sum  of  one 
hundred  dollars  for  the  first  offence,  and  in  default  of  pay 
ment,  one  month's  imprisonment ;  and  for  the  second  offence, 
two  hundred  dollars,  or  two  months'  imprisonment ;  and  for 
the  third  offence,  three  hundred  dollars,  or  three  months'  im 
prisonment  ;  with  the  right,  besides,  in  either  of  the  three 
cases,  in  the  event  of  any  disastrous  result  from  the  illegal 
practice,  to  prosecute  according  to  law,  for  the  purpose  of 
condign  punishment." 

Article  17  says  :  "  In  the  same  manner,  foreign  physicians 
must  present  to  the  Subinspection  of  Studies,  their  respective 
titles,  legalized  in  due  form,  and  prove,  also,  the  identity  of 
their  persons  ;  but  this  tribunal  can  in  no  case  license  them 
to  practise,  except  there  take  place,  before  the  Board  of  the 
respective  Faculty,  the  proof  examinations  and  practical  ex 
ercises  prescribed  in  the  one  hundredth  article  of  the  General 
Plan  of  Studies,  and  the  deposit  which  is  spoken  of  in  the 
hundred  and  twenty-third  article  of  the  Regulations  of  the 
University." 

So  you  see  that  quacks  have  no  chance  of  success  here  ; 
and  the  door  is  narrow,  and  the  way  difficult  and  expensive 
for  even  regular  practitioners  of  any  nation  whatever. 

I  close  with  something  of  the  same  advice  as  that  with 
which  I  commenced,  to  any  professional  brother  about  to 
undertake  this  arduous  enterprise  :  Go  doubly  armed  with 
patience  and  money,  for  both  one  and  the  other  will  meet 
with  heavy  drafts ;  and  go  well  prepared  for  the  examination, 
for  a  rigid  and  severe  one  you  may  be  sure  of  receiving. 

In  this  connection,  for  the  information  of  invalids 
resorting  to  the  West  Indies,  we  give  the  following 
extract  from  his  published  correspondence  in  the 
"  New  York  Commercial  Advertiser,"  commenting 
upon  the  climates  of  Trinidad  and  Havana  : 

From  all  that  I  can  learn,  gleaned  from  various  authentic 


328  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

sources  and  actual  observation,  Trinidad  is  by  far  the  health 
iest  place  on  this  island,  and  one  of  the  healthiest  in  the  world. 
Its  local  situation  is  admirable,  for  its  healthiness  as  well  as  its 
picturesque  beauty.  It  is  built  on  a  declivity  at  the  base  of  a 
range  of  mountains,  so  that  though  the  rain  may  fall  in  tor 
rents,  as  it  does  sometimes  in  the  rainy  season,  not  a  bucket 
ful  remains  in  the  streets  to  become  stagnant  in  the  sun,  but 
all  runs  off  toward  the  sea  upon  the  savannas,  where  the  sandy 
and  thirsty  earth  soon  drinks  it  all  up.  The  streets  are  very 
well  paved,  and  no  dirt  is  allowed  to  be  thrown  in  them  ;  but 
it  is  all  carefully  removed,  each  family  being  obliged  to  send 
away  its  own  slops  out  of  the  city,  as  they  accumulate  in  ves 
sels  for  the  purpose. 

The  city  is  supplied  with  pure,  excellent  water  by  a 
river  that  runs  near  it  from  the  mountains  ;  it  is  dipped 
up  in  earthen  botigas,  or  jars,  and  distributed  to  the 
different  families  from  the  backs  of  mules  and  horses.  Many 
of  the  houses  have  also  algibes,  or  cisterns,  which  get  well 
filled  during  the  rainy  months,  and  this  supply  lasts  for  a  long 
time,  being  chiefly  used  for  culinary  purposes.  The  air  is  of 
most  remarkable  dryness  and  transparent  purity,  and  its  tem 
perature  truly  delightful  to  those  who  are  obliged  to  flee  from 
the  rigors  of  your  Northern  Winters.  The  Winter  range  of 
the  thermometer  is  from  70  to  80  degrees.  I  have  not  known  it 
since  my  arrival — December  8th,  1843 — to  be  lower  at  any 
time  than  71  or  72  degrees,  even  during  the  prevalence  of  a 
Norther  which  is  the  coldest  wind  ever  experienced  here. — 
But  a  Trinidad  Norther  is  very  different  from  a  Havana 
Norther.  At  the  latter  place  they  drive  fiercely  upon  the 
unprotected  city,  charged  with  cold  and  salt  vapor  from  the 
open  Atlantic  ;  here  we  are  very  much  sheltered  from  their 
violence  by  the  mountains  of  Trinidad,  and  they  come  dry  and 
bracing,  their  moisture  being  absorbed  by  the  arid  tracts  of 
country  over  which  they  have  passed. 

It  is  not  seldom  that  vessels  come  here  with  their  crews 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          329 

sick  with  yellow  fever,  from  St.  Jago  de  Cuba  and  Kingston, 
Jamaica,  and  if  deaths  take  place  on  board,  as  they  often  do, 
some  are  ready  to  attribute  them  to  the  climate  here — whereas 
they  are  but  the  development  and  consummation  of  disease 
contracted  in  other  ports.  But  it  is  very  seldom  that  people 
sicken  and  die  with  the  yellow  fever,  either  in  this  city  itself, 
or  its  little  port,  Casilda  ;  and  even  in  the  rainy  season,  dur 
ing  the  hot,  tropical  summer,  there  are  but  few  cases,  and 
they  generally  yield  to  prompt,  judicious  treatment. 

The  climate  on  account  of  its  great  dryness  and  equability 
of  temperature,  is  particularly  favorable  for  complaints  of  the 
throat  and  chest,  chronic  asthma,  and  morbid  states  of  the 
mucous  membrane.  For  asthma,  all  assure  me  that  it  is  one 
of  the  best  climates  in  the  world.  Living  here  is  somewhat 
expensive,  but  much  cheaper  than  at  Havana. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  should  some  well-qualified  person,  of 
energy  and  enterprise,  establish  a  good  house  here  for  the  ac 
commodation  of  invalids,  and  make  it  permanent,  and  the  fine 
qualities  of  this  lovely  climate  be  made  fully  known,  many  would 
come  hither  every  winter,  and  receive  far  more  benefit  than  is 
derived  from  a  residence  in  various  other  places,  to  which  it  is 
more  customary  to  resort. 

The  invalids  have  now  (April  20th)  nearly  all  gone  from 
Havana  and  vicinity,  and  the  few  that  are  left  will  soon 
depart  in  the  steamer  Alabama  for  New  Orleans,  and  in 
other  packets  for  the  north.  Many  of  them  commit  a  fatal 
mistake  by  leaving  here  so  early  for  the  cold  winds,  cloudy 
skies,  and  rainy  atmosphere  that  are  often  to  be  met  with 
even  till  the  month  of  June,  in  any  part  of  the  Northern  and 
Middle  States,  not  to  say  in  the  South  itself.  A  summer 
residence  in  a  warm  climate,  would,  in  many  instances,  have 
a  more  decidedly  beneficial  effect  than  only  a  winter  one.  A 
winter,  the  ensuing  summer,  and  then  another  winter,  ought, 
in  many  cases,  to  be  passed  before  a  return  to  our  northern 
climate.  A  change  takes  place  in  the  human  system  in  a 


330  MEMORIALS   OF   THE  LIFE 

year  and  a  half,  while  it  is  experiencing  the  different  annual 
seasons  of  a  tropical  climate,  which  cannot  be  effected  by 
only  a  few  months  of  mild  air  during  the  winter.  But  Home, 
and  Friends,  and  dear  familiar  faces,  have,  I  .too  well  know, 
an  attraction  that  it  is  hard,  very  hard,  to  resist,  even  when 
the  common  instinct  of  self-preservation — the  love  of  life 
itself — pulls  strongly  in  the  opposite  direction. 

The  infamous  traffic  in  slaves  is  still  carried  on  upon  this 
island  to  a  lamentable  extent.  It  is  only  eight  or  ten  days 
since  a  small  slave  schooner  crossed  the  mouth  of  this  harbor, 
and  was  seen  plainly  from  the  port.  She  went  only  a  few 
miles  to  windward,  and  there  landed  her  human  cargo  of  one 
hundred  and  ten  negro  slaves  ;  and  this  vessel,  I  have  under 
stood,  had  only  a  crew  of  about  eight  men !  Two  rakish- 
looking  vessels  are  now  lying  in  port,  which  only  a  few  weeks 
since  returned  from  Africa  with  the  same  kind  of  cargo. 
One  of  them,  which  designed  to  carry  many  more,  was  chased 
off  the  coast  by  an  English  man-of-war,  and  was  obliged  to 
leave  with  only  fifty-four. 

It  would  be  a  new  thing  under  the  sun  to  see  an  American 
squadron  engaged  heart  and  hand  in  exterminating  the  slave- 
trade.  Would  that  we  might  behold  such  an  agreeable  spec 
tacle  ;  for,  as  things  are  now  permitted  to  go  on  in  this  busi 
ness,  to  the  disgrace  of  nations  calling  themselves  civilized 
and  Christian,  most  truly  may  it  be  said, 

Man's  inhumanity  to  man 
Makes  countless  thousands  mourn. 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          331 


CIIAPTEE  XV. 

HOPES     RAISED FRUSTRATED AND     AT     LENGTH     TERMI 
NATED  IN  DEATH  ON  HIS  RETURN  VOYAGE  TO  AMERICA. 

He  lives,  who  dies  bequeathing  works  which  tell 

That  he  has  been ;  who  so  fulfils  his  race, 
That  though  no  dazzling  deeds  his  praises'  swell, 

He  yet  may  find  a  holy  resting-place 
In  the  FOND  HEART'S  REMEMBRANCE,  there  to  trace 

The  record  of  a  soul  renewed  by  grace  : 
He  who  thus  lives,  when  Death's  dim  shadows  lower, 

Shall  win  eternal  life  in  that  transporting  hour. 

ANON. 

THROUGH  a  perseverance  and  force  of  character  in 
surmounting  difficulties  that  gave  promise  of  large 
results  in  time  to  come,  an  honorable  professional 
standing  is  now  fairly  won  on  foreign  ground,  and 
amidst  jealous  competitors.  The  American  friends 
of  the  young  Physician  were  fondly  hoping  that  a 
successful  career  of  professional  usefulness  was  open 
ing  to  him,  which  a  gracious  Providence  would  allow 
him  to  pursue.  We  have  seen  how  his  severe  bodily 
affliction  had  proved  the  wholesome  soil  of  virtue, 

"  Where  goodness,  honor,  sweet  humanity, 
Calm  fortitude,  take  root,  and  strongly  flourish." 

We  thought  they  were  to  nourish  awhile  below, 
before  transplanting  to  the  paradise  of  God.  But  to 


332  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

Infinite  "Wisdom  that  never  errs,  it  seemed  otherwise, 
as  the  present  chapter  will  reveal. 

His  safe  return  from  Havana,  duly  authorized  and 
approved,  with  his  hard-earned  and  dear-bought 
medical  honors,  is  thus  announced  in  a  letter  to  his 
Brother,  dated,  Trinidad  de  Cuba,  May  6th,  1844  : 

I  am,  by  God's  blessing,  permitted  to  announce  to  you  my 
safe  arrival  at  this  place  on  last  Thursday  evening.  I  am 
comfortably  settled  at  my  old  quarters  in  Calle  de  la  Gracia. 
I  feel  depressed  and  discouraged  sometimes,  I  can  assure  you  ; 
and  I  can  say  with  the  deepest  feeling,  when  I  review  the  long 
years  of  suffering  with  this  dreadful  infirmity,  the  separation 
from  friends,  the  trials,  and  the  abnegations,  through  which 
I  have  passed,  and  still  suifer,  "  I  am  the  man  that  hath  seen 
affliction." 

In  my  day  dreams,  I  sometimes  see  vistas  of  re 
putation,  honor,  and  wealth,  opening  up  before  me,  but 
perhaps,  I  shall  never  be  permitted  to  realize  them.  The 
will  of  the  Lord  be  done,  whatever  it  may  be.  I  trust,  yea,  I 
feel  assured  that  I  have  an  interest  in  his  pardoning  love,  and 
that  let  what  may  befall  me  in  time,  all,  all  is  well  for  eternity. 
Oh  !  blessed,  sustaining  hope  !  What  should  I  be,  and 
what  should  I  do  without  that !  If  my  worldly  dreams  were 
all  realized,  and  I  had  no  cheering  hope  of  heaven,  how 
miserable  a  man ! 

"  Were  the  whole  sea  one  chrysolite, 

This  earth  a  golden  ball, 
And  diamonds  all  the  stars  of  night, 
This  hope  were  worth  them  all." 

Under  date  of  May  12th,  he  writes  in  his  Journal : 

My  license  has  been  duly  presented  both  to  the  Subdelegado 
Di  Gallo,  and  to  the  Governor ;  and  I  am  now  fully  author 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.         333 

ized  to  practise  my  profession.  Oh,  that  God  may  deign  to 
bless  me  in  its  exercise  here,  and  make  me  useful.  I  feel 
"  ready  to  halt,"  when  my  animal  spirits  sink  so  low  as 
they  have  done  at  times.  Since  my  return,  I  have  ex 
perienced  also  a  good  many  trials  and  vexations  to  harass 
and  annoy  me,  besides  the  great  ones  which  I  am  constantly 
called  to  endure  of  ill-health,  and  absence  from  all  I  love 
best.  But  the  blessed  consolations  of  the  word  of  God, 
and  a  happy  spirit  of  prayer  do  not  fail  me.  0,  what  should 
I  do  without  that  unspeakable  privilege  !  It  is  more  precious 
to  me  than  thousands  of  gold  and  silver.  I  would  not  exchange 
it  for  all  the  wealth,  without  the  exercise  of  that  gift,  of  the 
richest  man  living. 

Were  I  possessor  of  the  earth, 

And  called  the  stars  my  own, 
Without  ihy%  graces  and  thyself, 

I  were  a  wretch  undone. 

Trinidad  de  Cuba,  June  12th,  1844. 

MOST  DEARLY  BELOVED  SISTER. — I  commence  this  after 
noon  what  I  intend  shall  be  a  sort  of  tete-a-tete  conversation 
with  my  dear  Sister,  and  beloved  Mother,  whose  birth-day  I 
recollect  was  yesterday.  My  mind  is  continually  full  of 
"  thoughts  that  breathe,  and  words  that  burn"  towards  you, 
but  ah  !  how  tardy  and  dull  seems  the  pen,  as  a  mode  of 
transmitting  them,  compared  with  the  sweet,  precious,  mutual 
reciprocity  of  personal  conversation,  the  giving  and  receiving 
of  those  sparks  of  mental  electricity,  which  do  so  delightfully 
vivify  and  ventilate  the  atmosphere  of  our  being,  when  friend 
meets  friend  in  the  dear  intercourse  of  domestic  life.  But 
this  privilege  we  cannot  now  have,  much  as  we  do  desire  it,  and 
we  must  make  the  most  of  the  only  substitute  that  remains, 
that  of  epistolary  communications. 

I  must  now  answer  some  of  your  inquiries,  and  refer  to  the 
topics  touched  upon  in  your  most  welcome  letters.  As  to 


334  MEMOEIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

slavery  I  hate  to  touch  upon  it,  and  to  uncover  the  pit  of 
abominations  which  that  system  of  oppression  always  incloses 
within  its  bounds,  wherever  it  exists.  On  the  estates,  par 
ticularly  the  sugar  estates  of  this  island,  it  is  doubtless 
vastly  more  rigorous  and  severe  than  in  the  United  States,  ex 
cept  in  a  few  instances.  It  would  now  have  to  be  a  very  large 
salary  that  would  tempt  me  to  live  permanently  on  one  of  the 
sugar  plantations  of  this  island.  I  spent  a  day  last  winter  at 
Magua,  one  of  the  rich  Dr.  Cantero's  finest  estates,  about  six 
miles  from  Trinidad.  It  was  the  grinding  season,  and  I  saw 
much  that  was  new  and  interesting  to  me  in  the  mode  of 
making  the  sugar  and  molasses.  There  are  three  hundred 
and  eighty  negroes  on  that  estate,  all  from  the  coast  of  Africa  ; 
this  is  the  case  on  a  great  many  estates,  the  supply  being  kept 
up  by  reinforcements,  brought  from  time  to  time  by  the  in 
famous,  piratical  slave  vessels.  When  I  came  from  Havana 
the  last  time,  there  came  also  in  the  cars  and  steamer,  as  far 
as  Cienfuegos,  about  seventy  Bozal  negroes,  as  they  are  called  ; 
and  I  was  told  by  a  Spaniard  on  board  that  it  had  been  only 
about  eight  days  since  they  were  landed  from  Africa,  near 
Havana.  They  were  of  all  ages  and  sexes,  could  not  of  course 
speak  a  word  of  Spanish,  and  a  more  wretched,  degraded, 
miserable  looking  set  of  beings  I  never  saw  in  my  life.  Oh  ! 
how  feelingly  did  I  think  of  Cowper's  pathetic  little  piece  on 
the  horrors  of  the  Slave-trade — 

"  Forced  from  home  and  all  its  pleasures, 

Afric's  coast  I  left  forlorn, 
To  increase  a  stranger's  treasures, 
O'er  the  raging  billows  borne." 

In  the  cities,  as  far  as  I  have  seen  and  heard,  the  negroes 
are  treated  very  well,  and  there  are  a  great  many  free  ones. 
There  is  a  public  officer  in  every  city,  called  Sindico,  whose 
duty  it  is  to  protect  the  slaves  against  the  undue  insolence  of 
their  masters,  a  sort  of  day's-maii  betwixt  the  two.  The 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          335 

slaves  have  the  liberty  of  changing  their  masters  in  the  city, 
whenever  there  is  any  just  cause  of  complaint ;  and  whenever 
they  amass  money  enough  to  buy  themselves,  and  wish  to  do 
so,  the  master  is  obliged  to  give  them  their  liberty,  at  a  price 
just  about  equivalent  to  their  market-value.  Here  in  Trini 
dad,  the  colored  people,  both  free  and  slaves,  seem  to  be  an 
exceeding  merry,  cheerful,  contented  set.  The  whole  popu 
lation  of  Trinidad  is  about  15,000,  and  I  suppose  that  at  least 
half,  or  probably  as  many  as  8,000,  are  blacks  and  mulattoes. 
The  shades  of  color,  I  can  assure  you,  are  wonderfully 
numerous  ;  complexions  of  all  hues,  from  the  deepest  ebony 
black  to  the  least  possible  trace  of  negro-blood,  may  be  seen 
in  the  faces  of  those  you  meet  daily  in  this  city. 

It  is  very  warm  and  has  been  all  this  month,  but  the  heat 
as  yet  agrees  with  me  well.  I  wish  I  could  say  my  cough 
had  left  me ;  but  it  is  still  very  bad,  though  better,  perhaps, 
than  when  1  left  for  Havana.  My  kindest  love  to  our  dear 
relatives  at  old  York,  when  you  write  them.  Unspeakable 
love  to  dear  Mother,  and  thanks  for  her  sweet  addition  to  your 
letters. 

The  receipt  at  this  time  of  a  box  of  books  from  the 
American  Tract  Society,  and  a  Certificate  of  Life 
Membership,  induced  the  following  letter  to  the  be 
nevolent  lady  of  TIallowell  by  whose  donation  it  was 
effected : 

Trinidad  de  Cuba,  July  1st,  1844. 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  BOND — I  return  to  you  my  most  sincere 
thanks  for  the  honor  you  have  conferred  upon  me,  in  consti 
tuting  me  a  life  member  of  the  American  Tract  Society,  and 
for  the  receipt  of  the  "  Evangelical  Family  Library,"  as  the 
consequence  of  your  liberal  donation.  The  books  arrived  at 
this  port  in  the  bark  "  Franklin,"  Captain  Gibbs,  on  the 


336  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

13th  of  last  month  ;  but,  as  they  had  to  pass  through  the 
Custom  House,  and  be  viewed  by  the  public  Censor,  I  did 
not  receive  them  into  my  possession  until  the  20th  ult. 
Their  examination  by  the  Censor  was  truly  quite  a  farce,  for 
I  learn  that  neither  he  nor  one  of  his  clerks  understands  a  word 
of  English  !  But  this  was  all  the  better  for  me,  since,  if 
they  had  understood  the  titles  and  contents  of  the  books,  they 
would  not,  perhaps,  have  been  admitted.  "  Nevin's  Thoughts 
on  Popery,"  they  might  have  feared  would  be  a  firebrand, 
though  in  a  foreign  language.  They  are  all  exceedingly  valu 
able  volumes,  and  though  I  have  read  a  goodly  number  of 
them,  I  am  delighted  now  to  own  them,  and  have  them 
always  by  me  for  re-perusal,  and  to  lend  them,  should  I  have 
the  opportunity,  in  this  dark  and  unevangelized  portion  of  the 
world. 

Of  true,  heartfelt  religion  in  this  island,  I  fear  there  is 
very  little.  The  Catholic  religion  itself  is  quite  disregarded, 
and  the  people  do  not  live  up  even  to  the  scanty  light  afforded 
by  that  dark  system,  which  is,  indeed,  faint  and  nickering. 
The  women  are  superstitious,  the  men  little  better  than  Turks 
or  Infidels,  as  to  any  religion,  and  the  moral  and  religious 
education  of  the  children  is  utterly  abandoned  among  all 
classes.  The  negro  and  mulatto  children,  and  those  of  the 
poorer  orders  of  the  white  population,  and  I  may  include 
their  parents  also,  can  certainly  be  but  little  better  off  as  to 
knowledge  of  the  Gospel,  than  the  Heathen  themselves. 

I  often  think  of  the  missionaries,  and  the  trials  which  they 
must  have  to  endure  from  the  obtuseness  and  want  of  any 
moral  sense,  which  they  find  in  various  parts  of  the  Heathen 
world.  When  I  see  the  little  naked  children  playing  about 
the  streets  and  houses,  black  and  white,  and  all  conceivable 
shades  between  those  two  colors,  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages, 
up  to  six,  eight,  or  ten  years,  and  when  I  witness  the  exceed 
ing  ignorance,  degradation,  and  wickedness  of  their  parents, 
and  the  generally  abandoned  and  sunken  state  of  all 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVBE,  M.D.          337 

classes  upon  this  island,  I  am  compelled,  most  painfully,  to 
feel  that  gross  darkness  covers  the  people,  and  my  only  relief 
is  to  pray  that  God  may  soon  send  the  penetrating  light  of 
his  blessed  Gospel  to  remove  it. 

I  suffer  much  from  the  deprivation  of  religious  society  and 
social  privileges  ;  but  God  is  unspeakably  good  to  me ;  he 
shines  upon  me  with  the  light  of  his  countenance ;  makes 
prayer  an  unspeakable  blessing  ;  and  erects  for  me,  as  it 
were,  "  a  little  sanctuary"  in  the  midst  of  a  spiritual  wilderness. 
My  kindest  love  to  Mr.  Bond,  and  ever  believe  me  to  be, 
most  sincerely,  and  with  much  esteem,  your  friend  and 
younger  brother  in  Christ. 

There  commences  about  this  time  in  the  Journal,  a 
series  of  entries  full  of  painful  interest  to  his  friends, 
respecting  both  his  own  practice  and  the  multiplying 
indications  of  accelerating  fatal  disease  in  his  own 
person.  But  he  still  hoped  against  hope — fulfilled  all 
the  calls  of  his  profession,  and  heroically  held  up  to 
the  last.  On  the  29th  of  June,  he  says : 

I  have  had  several  patients,  or  cases,  since  my  last  date, 
and  now  have  a  negro  at  Casilda,  belonging  to  Lord  and 
Rankin,  whom  I  am  attending  every  day.  His  left  leg  was 
ripped  up  six  days  since  by  a  ferocious  boar,  making  a  dread 
ful  wound,  some  five  or  six  inches  in  length. 

August  5th,  Monday  afternoon. — For  a  week  past  I  have 
been  very  unwell,  not  with  asthma,  but  with  great  debility, 
irritation  of  my  lungs,  and  pain  in  my  side.  I  feel  often 
to  say  with  David,  "  I  shall  one  day  perish  by  the  hands 
of  Saul."  I  shall  one  day  fall  by  the  hand  of  this  disease. 
I  finished  visiting  old  Tom  a  week  ago  to-day,  leaving  him 
nearly  well.  On  the  first  instant,  my  bill  was  paid,  which 
will  support  me,  unless  I  should  be  very  sick,  for  the  next 
15 


338  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

ten  weeks  or  three  months.     I  would  praise  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  that  I  have  been  enabled  to  earn  so  large   a  sum. 

In  a  letter  to  his  mother  of  July  19th,  he  mentions 
surgical  cases  of  practice  that  were  on  his  hands,  and 
that  he  had  three  patients  also  in  the  city  with  chronic 

diseases  : 

You  see  how  the  Lord  has  graciously  blessed  me  with  increase  ; 
BO  that  I  hope  from  this  date  by  his  continued  blessing  to  sus 
tain  myself.  How  many  unwritten  letters  are  continually 
elaborated  in  the  ever  busy  thoughts  of  home,  and  the  dear 
ones  there,  and  the  pleasant  things  that  are  constantly  passing 
through  my  mind  like  pictures  in  the  camera  obscura.  How 
often  would  the  affectionate,  restless  workings  of  my  heart  fill 
sheets,  had  I  the  power  of  the  daguerreotype  to  transmit  them 
immediately,  like  portraits,  to  the  white  surface  of  the  paper  ! 
I  feel  grieved  at  the  necessity  of  dear  George's  departure, 
and  earnestly  hope  that  his  travels  may  be  instrumental  in 
restoring  him  to  perfect  health.  My  heart  is  with  you  at 
home  in  the  absence  of  all  your  dear  sons. 

Trinidad  de  Cuba,  August  13^,  1844. 
MOST  DEARLY  BELOVED  SISTER — By  the  barque  "  Ellen" 
which  clears  to-morrow  for  New  York,  I  have  an  opportunity 
to  acknowledge  the  various  epistolary  favors  that  I  have 
received  from  the  hands  of  yourself  and  dear  Mother  since 
the  date  of  my  last.  Truly  a  precious  list  of  refresh 
ments  to  your  beloved  self-exiled  brother  in  this  far  off 
land.  I  earnestly  hope  that  amid  all  the  changes  that  may 
take  place  in  the  old  homestead,  the  OLD  ELM  TREE  will  ever 
be  spared.  From  hence  I  sand  forth  the  cry — "  Woodman  ! 
spare  that  TREE."  If  the  house  is  sold,  let  it  be  with  the  con 
dition  in  the  deed,  if  possible,  that  the  OLD  ELM  TREE  is  never 
to  be  cut  down.  I  am  heartily  glad  that  the  syrup  proved 


OF   NATHANIEL    CHEEVKK,    M.D. 

so  sweet  and  acceptable  a  gift — it  was  fresh  from  the  sugar 
cane  of  Don  Pio  Bastida's  estate.  The  profits  of  the  molasses 
trade  have  this  year  been  very  great.  Mr.  Lynn  acknow 
ledges  that  the  profits  of  his  business  this  year  will,  or  do 
amount  to  $30,000.  I  am  truly  rejoiced  at  his  good  fortune  ; 
speaking  after  the  manner  of  men,  none  deserve  it  better  than 
he.  His  noble,  open-hearted  benevolence  to  all  that  are  in 
distress,  and  his  generous,  constant  charity  to  the  poor,  of 
whom  there  are  many  in  Trinidad,  do  really  make  me  admire 
his  character  and  applaud  the  sympathising  kindness  of  his 
heart.  I  wish,  ah  !  how  I  wish,  that  he  were  a  Christian. 

I  have  not  had  an  attack  of  asthma  since  the  18th  of  last 
May,  and  that  was  but  of  one  day's  duration.  I  have  suffered, 
however,  a  good  deal  from  my  cough,  occasional  irritation  of 
the  lungs,  and  pain  in  the  right  side,  and  latterly  from  debility 
induced  by  a  chronic  bilious  diarrhoea,  the  effects,  I  suppose, 
of  the  climate  ;  perhaps  a  kind  of  acclimation  that  I  am 
undergoing,  my  system  having  been  unaccustomed  to  the 
sultry  heats  of  the  tropics.  But  I  am  now  much  better  of 
it,  and  intend,  in  order  still  better  to  recruit,  to  go  out  in  a 
few  days  five  leagues  into  the  country  to  Don  Pio  Bastida's 
estate,  where  for  months  I  have  had  a  standing  invitation. 

Only  the  day  after  the  date  of  this  letter  there  is  an 
entry  in  his  journal  of  August  14th,  which  is  painfully 
significant  as  to  his  rapidly  failing  health  and  the 
speedy  termination  of  all  earthly  hopes  : 

Oh  how  depressed  and  feeble  I  am,  yet  I  have  written 
to-day  and  yesterday  three  quite  cheerful  letters,  but  with  a 
tremendous  effort.  "  Lover  and  friend  hast  thou  put  far  from 
me,  and  my  acquaintance  into  darkness."  I  have  not  a 
single,  sympathising  Christian  companion  here.  I  feel 
sometimes,  as  though  I  could  not  possibly  endure  this 
loneliness  any  longer.  To  be  sick  and  alone,  and  likely  to 


340  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

die  among  strangers  oppresses  me  with  sadness.  Oh  !  God, 
leave  me  not  to  sink.  In  my  deliberate  judgment  as  a  phy 
sician,  the  symptoms  I  now  observe  in  myself,  excessive  irrita 
tion  of  the  chest  and  lungs,  pain  in  the  right  side,  and  occa 
sional  bloody  phlegm,  together  with  the  diarrhoea  and  debility, 
make  it  exceedingly  doubtful  whether  I  shall  live  many 
months  longer  ;  and  yet  I  may  live  to  a  good  old  age.  Some 
times  I  think  it  may  be  in  reserve  for  me  thus  to  live,  and 
yet  be  all  the  time  as  I  have  already  been  the  largest  half  of 
my  life,  encompassed  with,  and  suffering  from,  various  bodily 
infirmities.  The  Lord's  will  be  done.  Let  Him  do  that 
which  seemeth  to  Him  good.  I  humbly  trust  that  living  or 
dying  I  am  His ;  and  that  all  His  dispensations  in  regard  to 
me  will  at  length  work  out  my  highest  everlasting  good 

"  It  is  the  Lord,  whose  matchless  skill, 

Can  from  afflictions  raise, 
Matter  eternity  to  fill, 
With  ever  growing  praise." 

Aug.  20tk, — Estate  of  Don  Pio  Bastida.  Fifteen  miles 
from  Trinidad. — We  started  this  morning  at  five  minutes  to 
six,  and  after  a  truly  delightful  and  picturesque  ride,  arrived 
at  this  beautifully  situated  estate,  about  twenty  minutes  past 
eight.  The  air  is  cooler  than  in  the  city  ;  there  is  a  refresh 
ing  breeze,  and  I  already  feel  much  better.  The  ride  hardly 
fatigued  me.  u  Benito,"  has  greatly  improved  in  his  paces  ; 
he  has  now  a  gualtropeo,  as  it  is  called,  which  is  a  very  easy, 
fine  pace,  and  excellent  for  a  journey.  Thanks  be  to  God  for 
His  gracious  protection,  and  that  I  am  in  the  least  degree  im 
proved  in  my  health. 

Saturday,  31s£,  Don  Pio  Bastida^s. — Yesterday  afternoon 
we  had  a  fine  shower,  and  everything  looks  delightfully 
green  and  fresh  to-day.  I  am  gradually  improving,  but  my 
appetite  is  still  very  small.  My  right  side  is  very  much 
affected,  and  the  seat  of  my  disease  seems  to  be  now  there. 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVER,    M.D. 

I  have  had  great  pain  in  that  region.  This  has  been  to 
me  one  of  the  most  painful,  sad,  and  suffering  months  that 
I  ever  experienced.  Some  days,  both  here  and  in  Trinidad, 
it  has  seemed  as  though  I  could  not  sustain  myself 
any  longer,  but  must  sink  entirely,  and  die  without 
remedy.  I  seem  as  yet  to  be  in  a  very  critical  state,  and  as 
though  I  were  hanging  between  life  and  death.  Oh,  blessed 
Saviour,  prepare  me  for  any  result,  even  the  worst  that  can 
befal  me. 

"  Submissive  to  thy  will,  my  God, 

I  all  to  thee  resign, 
And  bow  before  thy  chastening  rod  ; 

I  mourn,  but  not  repine. 
Why  should  my  foolish  heart  complain, 

When  wisdom,  truth,  and  love, 
Direct  the  stroke — inflict  the  pain — 

And  point  to  joys  above. 
How  short  are  all  my  sufferings  here, 

How  needful  every  cross  ; 
Away,  my  unbelieving  fear. 

Nor  call  my  gain  my  loss." 

Trinidad,  Sept.  4th,  Wed-wsday,  A.M. — We  came  to 
town  yesterday  morning,  according  to  previous  arrangement, 
but  found  the  roads  excessively  bad,  from  the  quantity  of  rain 
that  had  fallen.  The'Rio  de  Ay  was  so  swollen,  that  we  had 
to  pass  it  in  a  boat,  and  swim  the  horses  across.  I  found  all 
things  safe  at  my  rooms,  but  was  lonely  and  depressed  on  my 
first  arrival,  at  not  finding  one  warm  friend  or  dear  relative 
to  welcome  me  back.  I  feel  very  much  the  separation  from 
all  those  I  hold  most  dear,  and  the  great  want  of  some  true 
Christian  bosom  companion. 

Sept.  \§th. — This  afternoon,  by  a  great  effort,  I  havo 
written  three  letters,  one  to  dear  George,  at  London  ;  one  to 
cousin  William  at  New  York  ;  and  one  to  dear  Mother  at 
Hallowell.  Still  troubled  with  diarrhoea,  which  has  greatly 
weakened  me. 


MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

Oct.  1st,  1844. — Engaged  my  passage  for  Philadelphia,  in 
the  brig  u  Espeleta,"  Capt.  Ames.  Very  weak  and  feeble. 

Oct.  2nd. — A  tremendous  rain  storm  from  the  S.E.  all  day. 
Enormous  quantities  of  rain  have  fallen.  The  roar  of  the  sea 
can  be  heard  very  loud  ;  the  first  time  I  have  heard  it  here. 
Rather  better  to-day,  having  taken  the  elixir  of  opium  last 
night.  But  I  seem  to  rally  only  for  a  day  or  so,  and  then  sink 
into  a  state  of  extreme  weakness.  Perhaps  I  shall  not  survive  the 
voyage,  but  still  it  MAY,  by  the  great  blessing  of  God,  prove  of 
eminent  service.  One  thing  is  certain  that  I  am  in  a  very 
low  state  here,  and  my  average  improvement  if  any,  very  small, 
and  the  lowness  and  depression  that  I  suffer  make  me  worse. 
If  I  am  soon  to  die,  oh  !  may  Grod  in  His  mercy  grant  that  it 
may  be  among  my  kindred.  It  would  be  dreadful  to  die  here 
in  this  Catholic,  superstitious,  irreligious  country.  The 
American  Consul,  Mr.  McLean,  goes  as  passenger  with 
me,  and  the  Captain's  wife  is  with  him,  who  is  a  kind-hearted 
and  amiable  woman,  and  I  think,  will  be  a  good  nurse,  and 
do  every  thing  she  can  for  my  comfort. 

This  expectation  his  friends  had  good  reason  to 
know,  and  acknowledge,  with  gratitude  for  the  kind 
attentions  paid  him,  was  fully  met.  His  situation  on 
shipboard  was  rendered  comfortable  by  the  friendly 
offices  of  those  with  him,  far  more  so  than  it  could 
have  been,  had  he  remained  to  die  on  land.  The  above 
is  the  last  memorial  in  the  fair  handwriting  which  has 
traced  the  simple  records  of  this  volume,  through  a 
series  of  suffering  years. 

God  be  praised  for  the  assurance  we  have,  that  in 
that  blissful  world  where  the  former  things  are  passed 
away — where  the  inhabitant  shall  no  more  say,  I  am 
sick — where  there  is  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          343 

nor  crying,  nor  any  more  pain — with  the  Lamb  who 
is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  to  lead  him,  he  can 
retrace  by  the  light  of  eternity,  all  that  suffering  way 
through  time,  and  see  in  a  record  illuminated  by  the 
Saviour's  love,  how  all  things  were  working  together 
for  his  good.  May  we  be  followers  of  him,  who, 
through  FAITH  AND  PATIENCE,  has  inherited  the  pro 
mises. 

He  was  able  to  arrange  and  settle  his  affairs  satis 
factorily  at  Trinidad,  and  to  embark  on  the  twelfth  of 
October,  still  hopeful  of  arriving  to  die  among  his 
kindred.  He  wrote  a  brief  precautionary  letter,  ap 
prising  his  friends  of  his  embarkation,  by  another 
vessel  that  sailed  in  company.  It  was  not  till  the  day 
before  his  death  that  the  progress  of  his  disease 
entirely  disabled  him  from  coming  on  deck.  His  fre 
quent  prayers  for  dying  grace,  were  graciously  an 
swered  in  the  gentle  exit  by  which  he  at  length  passed 
from  time  to  eternity — from  a  scene  of  trial  to  a  heaven 
of  peace.  The  manner  of  his  final  departure  is  thus 
given  in  letters  to  his  Mother  and  Brother,  by  his 
worthy  friend  and  fellow-passenger,  Samuel  McLean, 
United  States  Consul  at  Trinidad,  on  whom  devolved 
the  sad  duty  of  announcing  the  death  of  the  beloved 
sufferer,  on  the  23rd  of  October,  1844,  in  the  brig 
Espeleta : 

"  Every  attention  that  could  possibly  be  paid  to 
the  sufferer  was  cheerfully  performed  by  the  wife  of 
the  Captain,  and  I  take  a  melancholy  pleasure  in 
stating  that  his  end  was  as  calm  and  resigned,  and 


MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 

apparently  as  free  from  pain  as  any  one  the  writer  has 
ever  had  the  sad  opportunity  of  witnessing.  The  day 
before  his  decease,  in  a  conversation  with  me,  he 
wished  me  to  particularly  understand  that  his  faith 
was  strong  in  his  Redeemer's  promises,  and  that  he 
was  willing,  if  it  pleased  God,  to  render  up  his  soul  to 
him  who  gave  up  his  own  life  that  we  might  live 
eternally.  He  had  a  great  dread  of  leaving  his  body 
in  Cuba,  preferring,  as  he  frequently  stated  to  me,  to 
die  at  sea.  This  sad  alternative,  was  allowed  him ; 
and  we  committed  his  body  to  the  deep  on  the  even 
ing  of  the  23rd,  in  latitude  28°  42',  and  longitude  79° 
50',  the  burial-service  of  the  Episcopal  Church  be 
ing  read  on  the  occasion  by  the  unworthy  writer  of 
this  letter." 

An  extract  from  a  letter  to  his  Brother  George, 
gives  a  few  more  interesting  particulars  of  the  last 
days  of  the  life  portrayed  in  these  pages  : 

"  There  is  a  deep  moral  in  the  dying-bed  of  a  good 
man,  and  such  your  esteemed  brother  certainly  was. 
It  will  be  long  ere  the  scene  of  his  death  will  pass 
from  my  memory.  Our  entire  passage  was  one  of 
storms  and  tempests,  and  for  a  few  days  before  and 
after  his  death,  the  weather,  in  nautical  parlance,  was 
very  heavy ;  still  the  patient  sufferer  complained  not. 
The  day  before  his  death,  he  called  me  to  the  side  of 
his  berth,  and  after  giving  me  such  instructions  as  he 
conceived  necessary  respecting  his  effects,  he  asked  me 
whether  the  storm  was  likely  to  abate.  As  we  were 
then  making  little  or  no  progress,  being  in  the  Gulf 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          345 

Stream  with  the  wind  ahead,  I  replied  that  I  did  not 
think  it  would  last  much  longer.  He  then  said,  if  it 
would  please  God,  he  would  like  very  much  to  see 
once  more  those  faces  that  were  so  dear  to  him 
(meaning  his  Mother  and  Sister — he  supposed  you  to  be 
in  Europe  at  that  time) ;  but,  says  he,  "  Not  my  will, 
but  Thine  be  done."  These  were  his  last  words.  All 
the  ensuing  night  he  appeared  to  doze,  and  he  lay  like 
an  infant  taking  his  rest.  Not  a  groan — not  a  moan 
escaped  his  lips  ;  and  he  died  without  a  struggle  the 
day  after  the  circumstances  above  related  occurred. 
Everything  that  could  be  done  under  the  circum 
stances  was  done  ;  and  about  sunset  his  body  was 
committed  to  that  deep  which,  on  the  great  day,  will 
give  up  its  dead.  The  prayers  of  the  Episcopal 
Church  were  read,  and  the  howling  of  the  storm  was 
his  requiem." 

A  suitable  close  to  these  memorials,  which  it 
has  been  a  sad,  yet  satisfactory  work  to  prepare,  is 
found  in  a  tribute  to  his  memory  written  for  the  New 
York  Observer,  by  Rev.  George  Shepard,  D.D.,  now 
Professor  in  the  Theological  Seminary  of  Bangor,  Maine, 
formerly  the  beloved  Pastor  of  the  old  South  Congre 
gational  Church  in  Hallowell : 

"  The  recent  announcement  in  your  paper  of  the 
death  of  Dr.  Nathaniel  Cheever,  on  his  passage  home 
from  Cuba,  was  one  which  surprised  and  pained  many 
hearts.  Dr.  Cheever  was  a  native  of  Hallowell,  Me. 
In  childhood  he  was  remarkable  for  an  exuberance  of 
15* 


346  MEMORIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

life — a  ceaseless  and  bounding  elasticity  of  spirits. 
But  he  was  early  called  to  suffering.  When  he  was 
twelve  years  of  age,  the  heavy  hand  of  disease 
came  upon  him  in  the  form  of  an  incurable  asthma. 
In  the  attacks  and  paroxysms  of  this  disease,  his  suf 
ferings  were  great  indeed.  It  was,  at  those  times, 
most  painful  to  look  on,  and  witness  the  hard  and  un- 
respited  contention  for  the  liberty  to  breathe.  But 
manfully  and  submissively  would  he  always  go  through 
the  whole  term  of  the  agony. 

"  Not  long  after  the  attack  of  the  disease,  he  became 
a  subject  of  God's  renewing  grace.  His  experience 
was  remarkable  in  one  so  young  for  depth,  clearness, 
and  variety.  From  the  first  his  hope  was  firm  and 
assured — his  joy  pure  and  strong.  He  loved  to  talk 
upon  Christian  experience.  ~No  other  topic  pleased 
him  so  well.  The  writer  remembers  well  the  time 
when  he  publicly  professed  his  faith  in  Christ.  How 
satisfactory  the  account  he  gave  of  the  hope  that  was 
in  him ;  and  how  surprised  were  some  who  did  not 
know  him  intimately,  that  one  so  young  should,  ex 
hibit  such  understanding  and  answers. 

"  The  disparity  at  this  period  between  his  mind  and 
body  was  a  very  striking  circumstance ;  for  while  the 
disease  was  holding  his  bodily  growth  in  check,  the 
mind  advanced  more  rapidly  toward  maturity  than  is 
common  even  where  there  is  perfect  health.  He  was 
a  man  almost  in  intellect,  when  he  seemed  a  mere 
child  in  form,  aspect,  and  voice.  To  look  at  him,  so 
young  in  appearance  and  in  reality  too,  then  to  hear 


OF   NATHANIEL   CHEEVEK,    M.D.  34:7 

him  converse  with  such  variety  and  soundness  of 
knowledge  as  he  did;  to  listen  to  his  prayers,  and 
notice  the  fervor,  the  compass,  the  finished  structure, 
arid  the  perfect  propriety  of  every  part,  often  excited 
wonder,  and  the  strangeness  of  the  thing  would  some 
times  even  force  a  smile.  It  should  be  added  here, 
that  he  subsequently  gained  much  in  stature  by  resid 
ing  at  Malaga,  to  which  place  he  was  twice  driven  by 
the  iron  hand  of  his  disease. 

"  His  great  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  his  desire  to 
be  useful  in  some  worthy  calling,  led  him,  as  public 
speaking  was  out  of  the  question  with  him,  to  choose 
the  profession  of  medicine.  To  this  choice  he  was 
doubtless  drawn,  in  some  degree,  by  curiosity  to  know 
more  of  his  own  suffering  nature,  that,  by  the  help  of 
books,  and  a  bitter  experience,  he  might  pry,  if  possi 
ble,  into  the  mysteries  of  the  disease  that  was  oppress 
ing  him,  and  thus,  peradventure,  the  physician  might 
heal  himself.  A  kind  Providence  gave  him  health  and 
strength  sufficient  to  accomplish  the  prescribed  course 
of  study  ;  and  having  received  his  degree  from  the  New 
York  Medical  College,  he  was  induced  to  establish 
himself  in  Trinidad  de  Cuba,  on  account  of  the  sup 
posed  favorableness  of  the  climate  to  his  constitution. 
Here  his  professional  prospects  became  encouraging  ; 
and  his  friends  were  hoping,  that  by  a  residence  in  so 
genial  an  atmosphere,  his  own  health  would  be  gradu 
ally  confirmed,  and  a  wide  door  of  usefulness  be 
opened  to  him.  But  it  was  otherwise  determined  by 
an  All-wise  Providence. 


34:8  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

"  Before  his  friends  were  aware  of  it,  his  case  had 
become  critical,  perhaps  hopeless  ;  and  he  decided  to 
embark  for  this  country,  with  the  earnest  hope  that  he 
might  be  permitted  to  reach  the  home  he  so  much 
loved,  and  die  in  the  bosom  of  its  warm  affection  and 
sympathies.  This  was  not  allowed  him.  But  God 
provided  for  him  kind  friends  on  the  passage,  who 
devotedly  and  skilfully  ministered  to  him  in  his  neces 
sity. 

He  also  gave  him  the  strong  consolations  of  an 
unshaken  faith  and  hope  in  Christ.  That  Heavenly 
Friend  was  near  to  comfort  him.  His  end  was  peace  : 
perfectly  calm,  apparently  without  suffering,  '  quite 
on  the  verge  of  heaven.' 

"  Dr.  Cheever  was  one  who  drew  to  himself  the  con 
fidence  and  love  of  all  who  knew  him.  He  was  cha 
racterized  by  a  mind  well  disciplined  and  stored  ;  by 
a  brilliant  imagination,  and  a  pure  and  delicate  taste  ; 
by  a  benevolence  and  affectionateness  of  spirit  never 
weary  of  kindly  offices ;  by  a  cheerfulness  amid  de 
pressing  circumstances  which  nothing  could  cloud, 
and  an  ever-springing,  ruling  hope,  which  nothing 
could  extinguish  ;  by  a  simple  trust  in  God,  which 
ever  sustained  him  before  the  darkest  prospects ; 
finally,  by  a  wonderful  power  of  deriving  happiness 
from  every  object  and  arrangement  about  him. 

Few,  probably,  with  such  a  weight  of  infirmity, 
have  lived  so  happy  a  life.  He  seemed  to  be  com 
pensated  for  his  sufferings  by  this  power  of  ex 
tracting  enjoyment  from  all  sources;  and  those  suf- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVEK,  M.D.          349 

ferings,  his  delivered  spirit  has  learned,  are  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  to  be  re 
vealed." 


"  Spirit,  thy  labor  is  o'er, 
Thy  term  of  probation  is  run, 

Thy  steps  are  now  bound  for  the  untrodden  shore, 
And  the  race  of  immortals  begun. 
How  blessed  and  bright  is  the  road, 
For  which  thou  art  now  on  the  wing  ! 

Thy  home,  it  will  be  with  thy  Saviour  and  God, 
Their  loud  hallelujahs  to  sing.-" 


350  MEMORIALS   OF  THE  LIFE 


CONCLUSION. 

Now  planted  in  a  world  of  light, 

Unfolding  into  perfect  bliss, 
Oh,  who  shall  mourn  the  eaily  flight, 
In  Christ  so  beautiful  and  bright, 

That  drew  him  from  a  world  like  this  ? 

THE  scene  has  closed.  At  sea  in  that  little  cabin, 
amidst  the  storm,  arid  in  extreme  weakness,  though, 
by  the  mercy  of  God,  with  but  little  suffering,  and  in  a 
spirit  of  calm,  sweet  confidence  in  the  Redeemer,  the 
last  dying  struggle  of  life  has  been  passe'd  through, 
and  the  soul  has  winged  its  way  to  Heaven.  What  a 
blissful  change,  from  an  existence,  the  protracted 
effort  of  which  was  a  conflict  with  disease  and  suffer 
ing,  and  one  continued  trial  of  faith  and  patience,  to 
the  unclouded  presence  and  perfect  likeness  of  Christ, 
in  a  world  of  uninterrupted  holiness,  happiness,  and 
glory. 

Looking  at  it  as  a  whole,  how  singular  the  process 
of  preparation  for  that  world !  Each  changing  scene 
and  discipline  of  life,  under  the  shape  of  hopes  or 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          351 

efforts  to  be  strengthened  and  spared  for  usefulness  in 
this  world,  being  only  an  application  of  God's  refining 
and  chastening  instrumentalities,  till  the  jewel,  which 
was  not  to  be  set  here  on  earth,  should  be  fitted  for 
the  Redeemer's  crown  in  heaven.  Sometimes  it  seems 
as  if  God's  only  object  in  calling  his  children,  and 
sanctifying  them,  is  to  carry  them  to  glory,  doing  little 
or  nothing  with  them  by  the  way  except  as  preparing 
them  for  the  end.  And  yet  the  example  of  suffering 
affliction,  and  of  patience,  just  so  far  as  that  is  visible 
in  a  likeness  to  the  Great  Captain  of  our  Salvation,  is 
more  wonderful,  and  may  be,  in  some  respects,  more 
useful  than  the  most  brilliant  and  prosperous  career 
of  usefulness. 

One  after  another  the  treasured  hopes  and  expec 
tations  of  our  dear  brother  were  disappointed,  and 
taken  from  him,  till  the  last  that  was  left  was  the 
earnest  wish,  the  longing  desire,  to  see  once  more  his 
beloved  Mother  and  Sister,  and,  if  it  might  please 
God,  to  die  among  his  kindred.  Even  that  could  not 
be  permitted;  but  when  all  is  gone — when  every 
earthly  hope  is  taken,  how  completely  and  calmly  can 
Jesus  satisfy  the  soul !  Here,  at  length,  God  made 
it  easy  for  him  to  dismiss  the  last  desire  of  life,,  and 
submissively  and  serenely  to  know  that  never  again 
on  earth  could  he  see  the  faces  of  those  so  dear  to  him. 
There  was  no  conflict  at  last :  all  he  had  to  do  was 
quietly  to  fall  asleep  in  Jesus. 

Christ  views  his  image  now  !     The  victory's  won ! 
The  last  dark  shadow  from  his  child  is  drawn ! 
The  veil  is  rent  away  !     In  endless  peace, 


352  MEMOEIALS    OF   THE   LIFE 

The  soul  beholds  its  Saviour  face  to  face. 
Is  this  death's  seal  ?     The  impression,  oh  how  fair  !  • 
Look,  what  a  radiant  smile  is  playing  there  ! 
That  was  the  soul's  farewell :  the  sacred  dust 
Awaits  the  resurrection  of  the  just. 

JSTow,  how  little  do  we  know,  at  the  beginning,  what 
God  is  going  to  do,  or  what  is  for  the  best !  Any  one 
who  could  have  witnessed  the  frank,  cheerful,  faithful 
zeal,  that  characterized  the  earliest  life  in  Christ  of  the 
youthful  disciple,  his  spontaneous  delight  and  perse 
verance  in  efforts  for  the  winning  of  souls  to  the 
Saviour,  would  have  predicted  a  course  of  great  use 
fulness,  if  life  were  spared,  and  might  perhaps  have 
said :  It  is  likely  that  God  will  train  and  discipline 
this  youthful  Christian  for  some  great  thing  in  his 
service.  And  yet,  all  the  paths  through  which  God 
brought  him,  seemed  only  to  wind  back  upon  himself, 
not  ended,  nor  even  intended  to  end,  through  any 
effectual  door,  in  any  post  of  labor  or  of  influence 
for  Christ. 

What  God  does  thus  for  such  a  limited  season, 
he  sometimes  does  with  a  more  advanced  Christian, 
and  for  a  still  longer  period,  seeming  to  throw  away 
from  any  active  service  the  very  vessels  which  he 
had  afore  prepared  for  such  service,  even  while  the 
Redeemer's  cause  appears  to  languish  for  want  of 
just  such  instruments.  But  we  are  as  clay  in  the 
hands  of  the  potter,  and  God,  in  all  things,  is  a  sove 
reign. 

If  we  love  God,  all  His  discipline  is  best  for  us, 
besides  being  most  for  His  glory.  Yet,  for  the  pre- 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          353 

sent,  it  may  be  not  joyous,  but  grievous,  and  not  light 
but  darkness :  the  meaning  of  the  discipline  may  be 
not  clear  but  hidden.  The  clouds  that  by  and  by  are 
to  break  with  blessings,  sometimes  all  through  this 
life  roll  up  in  black  volumes,  with  thunderings,  and 
lightnings,  and  tempests,  overspreading  our  whole 
heavens,  even  till  the  night  of  death,  which,  for  the 
believer,  is  the  dawn  of  perfect  day.  Oh  then,  let 
God's  will  be  done!  When  that  is  all  our  desire, 
then  cometh  the  end.  Then,  in  this  world  even,  is  an 
end  of  all  real  sorrow  ;  then  the  object  of  the  Re 
deemer's  sufferings  and  death  is  in  us  almost  perfectly 
accomplished,  by  saving  us  from  our  sins.  Sometimes 
this  purifying  work  seems,  even  this  side  the  grave,  to 
have  gone  so  far  towards  the  very  transfiguration  of 
heaven,  that  little,  if  anything,  of  sin  is  left  in  the 
believer,  to  die  with  him.  He  only  needs  to  put  off 
this  tabernacle,  all  that  is  mortal  and  sinful  seeming 
to  have  retreated  from  the  inner  man  before  the  pre 
sence  of  Christ,  and  to  have  taken  its  last  post  and  ' 
refuge  in  that  which  is  outward  and  corruptible,  that 
which  is  to  be  sown  in  the  grave,  and  thence  to  be  raised 
in  a  likeness  to  the  Redeemer's  glorified  body,  as 
blissful  and  perfect  as  the  likeness  between  the  re 
generated  soul  and  Christ's  redeeming  spirit.  And  the 
sea ! — the  sea,  too,  shall  then  give  up  its  dead  ! 

They  that  sleep  in  Jesus,  how  quietly  they  slumber 
beneath  the  rolling  waves !  Once  in  early  life,  amidst 
the  sufferings  of  his  disease,  our  beloved  Brother 
wrote  an  essay  on  the  characteristics  of  true  resig 


854  MEMORIALS   OF   THE   LIFE 

nation  to  God's  will,  in  answer  to  a  question  proposed 
by  liis  Sister.  In  the  course  of  it,  lie  alluded  to  the 
trying  event  of  a  death  and  burial  at  sea,  and  the 
glorious  hope  of  the  Resurrection — the  same  hope  for 
friends  far  away  as  for  those  whose  green,  grassy 
mounds  we  visit  in  the  grave-yard  of  our  native  vil 
lage.  It  is  affecting  now  to  read  that  passage  ;  it 
seems  a  long,  yet  not  sad  presentiment,  of  what  might 
be  his  own  fate.  "What  matter  where,  since  Christ  is 
still  the  same,  the  same  watchful  Omnipresence,  the 
same  loving  grace  and  saving  power  on  the  sea  as  on 
the  land.  How  many  dear  forms  lie  shrouded  there 
for  the  Resurrection !  The  weeds  are  wrapped  around 
their  heads,  but  God's  angels  can  watch  them  there 
as  securely  as  beneath  heaven's  atmosphere.  The 
voice  of  the  ocean  is  a  great  cradle-hymn,  by  the 
music  of  wThich  the  dead  may  slumber.  In  the  war 
of  its  tempest-thunders,  or  in  the  calm  and  mighty 
sweep  of  its  undulating  billows,  or  in  the  beating  of 
its  surges  on  a  rock-bound  shore,  or  in  the  solemn 
tramp  of  its  tides  upon  the  long,  white,  lonely  beach, 
it  is  a  perpetual  requiem. 

Oh,  thou  that  goest  forth  upon  its  waters,  drooping 
and  sad,  so  embark  that  if  thine  appointed  resting- 
place  should  be  a  bed  beneath  the  deep,  thou,  too, 
mayest  sleep  in  Jesus  !  Go  forth  trusting  in  Him ; 
into  His  hands  commit  thy  spirit ;  day  by  day,  while 
thou  breathest  the  air  of  the  sea,  let  the  breath  of 
prayer  ascend  to  God,  by  faith  in  Jesus.  So  slialt 
THOU  BE  AT  PEACE  ;  and  whether  it  be  storm  or  calm, 


OF  NATHANIEL  CHEEVER,  M.D.          355 

ALL  winds  and  waves  shall  be  to  tliee  the  voice  of 
God  in  mercy.  Hope  thou  in  Him,  and  all  shall  be 
well. 

JESUS  SAID,  I  AM  THE  RESURRECTION  AND  THE  LIFE  I 
HE  THAT  BELIEVETH  IN  ME,  THOUGH  HE  WERE  DEAD, 
YET  SHALL  HE  LIVE  \  AND  WHOSOEVER  LIVETH  AND  BE 
LIEVETH  IN  ME,  SHALL  NEVER  DIE. 


THE  END. 


THE  WHALE  AND  HIS  CAPTORS: 

WITH  ENGRAVINGS.      16MO,  60  CENTS. 

BY   REV,   HENRY   T,   CHEEVER, 


THIS  elegantly  printed  and  embellished  volume  is  the  production  of  a  close  observer, 
and  a  polished  and  able  writer.  The  Whale's  Biography,  and  a  thousand  incidents  of 
whaling  life,  are  racily  and  agreeably  told,  while  the  reflections  of  the  Moralist  and 
Christian  voyager  are  unobtrusively  thrown  into  the  text.  An  Appendix  contains  many 
valuable  suggestions  in  regard  to  the  moral  and  religious  interests  of  seamen  and  whale 
men.  We  know  of  few  books  which  would  be  more  eagc-rly  sought  after  in  District 
Libraries  than  this. —  IVatcrtoicn  Reformer. 

There  is  very  much  valuable  information  contained  in  a  small  compass — in  fact,  a 
complete  history  of  that  department  of  the  Whale  Fishery.  Interspersed  are  glowing 
and  graphic  pictures  of  the  ocean,  its  dangers,  its  storms,  its  calms,  and  the  peculiar 
habits  of  those  that  roam  its  depths.  It  is  a  very  readable  and  pleasant  as  well  as 
profitable  volume. — Albany  Atlas. 

Since  the  issue  of  Dana's  justly  celebrated  "Two  Years  Before  the  Mast,"  we  have 
read  nothing  of  sea-life  and  adventure  so  fresh,  lively,  and  instructive  as  this  beautiful 
book.  It  is  full  of  life,  anecdote,  facts,  incidents,  and  character,  and  succeeds  in  keep 
ing  the  reader  intensely  occupied  with  the  glories  and  wonders  of  the  end.  The  con 
templative  eye  and  Christian  heart  with  which  the  writer  looks  abroad  upon  the  deep, 
and  the  fertile  fancy  with  which  he  links  the  incidents,  and  even  the  phraseology  of 
sea-life,  with  the  most  important  and  beautiful  matters  of  religion  and  truth,  are  among 
the  peculiar  charms  of  the  book.  It  is  printed  uniform  with  the  Abbott's  beautiful 
series  of  histories,  and  is  well  adapted  for  the  reading  of  the  young. — Jfeio  York 
Ecanvelist. 

A  charming  volume,  presenting  the  rarely  combined  features  of  being  a  book  adapted 
alike  to  delight  boys  and  men;  one  which  the  naturalist  will  peruse  for  fresh  informa 
tion  on  the  habits  of  Cetacea,  and  the  clergyman  recommend  on  account  of  the  spirit 
of  cheerful  piety  and  truthfulness  that  pervades  the  narrative. — London  Literary 
Gazette. 

A  very  readable  and  interesting  volume,  full  of  stirring  adventure,  hair-breadth 
escapes,  and  curious  information.  It  is  just  the  sort  of  book  for  the  eager  intelligences 
which  at  this  season  of  the  year  crowd  around  the  Christmas  table. — London  Athenaum. 

The  adventures  of  a  clergyman,  who  adopted  a  voyage  in  a  whaler  as  a  menus  of 
recruiting  exhausted  strength,  present  an  abundance  of  material  both  for  amusement 
and  instruction.  The  naturalist  will  find  a  great  many  new  particulars  respecting  the 
mammoth  of  the  ocean,  and  the  reader  who  delights  in  descriptions  of  hair-breadth 
escapes  and  perilous  incidents,  will  be  well  pleased  with  the  dish  set  before  him. 
There  is,  moreover,  a  spirit  of  cheerful  piety  and  truthfulness  pervading  the  narrative 
that  are  very  pleasing.  Every  branch  of,  and  every  circumstance  connected  with  the 
whale  fishery  is  glanced  upon,  and  the  habits  of  the  animal  form  by  no  means  the 
least  entertaining  portion  of  the  book. — Christian  Intelligencer. 

The  author  narrates  the  exciting  events  of  a  sea-voyage  undertaken  for  his  health, 
and  the  fisher  of  men  is  lost  sight  of  in  the  description  of  the  life  and  manners  of  the 
fishers  offish.  Strange  to  sny,  he  has  converted  what  Homer  so  frequently  calls  the 
'k  untillable  ocean,"  into  a  field  prolific  at  once  of  romantic  adventure,  rich  information, 
moral  instruction,  and  most  absorbing  interest.  The  reader  is  borne  nway  through 
his  pages  with  an  attraction  that  reminds  one  of  the  boat  drawn  by  the  harpooned 
monster  of  the  deep  in  his  abortive  efforts  to  escape  his  pursuers.  We  know  of  no 
reading  of  the  kind  which  will  afford  a  richer  treat  than  this  beautiful  little  volume  of 
Mr.  Cheever's. — JVeic  Church  Repository. 

2 


MEMORIALS  OF  CAPTAIN  OBADIAH  CONGAR: 

BY   REV,   HENRY   T,   CHEEVER, 

16MO,  MUSLIN,  50  CENTS. 


THIS  is  a  fitting  monument  to  the  memory  of  an  old  sailor,  who,  after  having 
weathered  many  storms  on  the  ocean  of  life,  arrived  safe,  at  an  advanced  age,  in  the 
haven  of  everlasting  rest.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  interesting  incident  in  his  life,  but 
the  most  interesting  circumstance  is,  that,  in  spite  of  the  peculiar  temptations  to  which 
his  profession  exposed  him,  he  maintained  a  close  and  humble  walk  with  God.  It  is 
proper  that  the  example  of  such  a  man  should  be  embalmed,  and  Mr.  Cheever  has 
.tune  it  well.— New  York  Observer. 

The  individuality  described  is  that  of  a  man  exposed  to  the  varied  temptations  and 
distractions  of  a  sailor's  life,  but  still  drawn  heavenward  by  the  influence  of  the  Spirit 
of  God,  and  describing  in  a  simple  and  unaffected  manner  the  influence  of  God's  mer 
cies  and  chastisements  in  the  formation  of  his  character  as  a  Christian.  The  tone  of 
the  book  is  healthy  and  liberal;  it  appears  to  contain  much  to  recommend  it  to  the 
perusTil  of  those  who  are  looking  to  God  as  their  "ever  present  help  in  every  time  of 
trouble."  The  author  already  enjoys  a  high  reputation  from  his  ''Island  World  of 
the  Pacific." — Parker's  Journal. 

With  the  trials  and  adventures  of  a  veteran  sailor,  there  is  blended  in  this  narrative 
p.  minute  account  of  his  religious  experience.  Independent,  therefore,  of  the  interest 
of  the  memoir,  the  work,  from  its  clear  style  and  cheap  form,  is  well  adapted  for  the 
Sunday  reading  of  the  forecastle,  and  should  be  distributed  by  the  friends  of  seamen.— 
Home  Journal. 

This  is  a  faithful,  well-written,  and  instructive  biography  of  an  eminently  practical 
good  man.  It  deserves  a  place,  and  will  have  it,  in  our  District  and  Sabbath-school 
libraries. — Hartford  Courant. 

Captain  Congar  was  a  genuine  old  Puritan  salt,  who  sailed  for  more  than  fifty  years 
as  a  shipmaster  out  of  this  port.  He,  of  course,  led  a  life  of  vicissitude  and  adventure, 
which  he  relates,  partly  himself,  and  partly  through  Mr.  Cheever,  with  great  earnest 
ness  and  simplicity. — Evening  Post. 

In  the  autobiography  of  Captain  Congar  we  find  much  to  admire  nnd  more  to  re 
spect.  His  life  was  one  universally  instructive,  and  cannot  fail  to  be  particularly  in 
teresting  to  every  nautical  individual,  whether  he  be  a  shipmaster  or  an  humble  sea 
man  before  the  mast.  He  was  eminently  a  holy  man,  a  faithful  Christian,  and  an  un 
tiring  laborer  in  the  cause  of  his  Master.  It  is  appropriately  dedicated  by  the  author 
to  the  Seamen's  Friend  Societies  of  the  two  great  commercial  nations  of  the  globe — • 
England  and  America. — JVezo  York  Farmer  and  Mechanic. 

From  such  a  history  useful  lessons  may  be  drawn,  and  its  perusal  will  have  a  ten 
dency  to  strengthen  good  purposes,  and  to  incite  others  to  follow  a  worthy  example, 
while  as  a  mere  personal  narrative  it  will  be  found  entertaining  and  often  of  thrilling 
Interest. — Northern  Budget. 

We  are  glad  to  see  a  book  of  so  much  value  added  to  the  collection  of  Christian 
literature  designed  especially  for  seamen,  and  delineating,  as  it  docs,  the  good  example 
of  one  of  their  number,  who  spent  a  large  portion  of  his  fourscore  years  in  "a  life  on 
the  ocean  wave."  The  tales  of  the  sea,  exposures,  hair-breadth  escapes,  providential 
care  experienced,  and  Christian  testimony  with  which  the  book  abounds,  will,  wo 
doubt  not,  secure  for  it  an  extensive  and  profitable  reading. — Family  Guardian. 

The  subject  of  this  memoir  was  horn  in  New  Jersey,  in  1767,  and  died  in  1848,  aged 
81.  When  a  boy,  he  became  a  sailor,  and  in  his  eighteenth  year  commenced  keeping 
a  journal,  from  which  the  materials  of  this  book  are  mostly  derived.  He  became  mate 
tn  a  ship  at  the  age  of  twenty-one.  He  afterwards  became  captain,  and  was  ever  found 
an  humble,  conscientious,  and  practical  Christian  mariner.  When  there  was  scarcely 
another  of  his  fellow-captains,  in  England  or  America,  to  keep  him  in  countenance, 
he  would  neither  sail  from  port,  nor  allow  any  other  than  the  absolutely  necessary 
workings  of  the  ship  at  sea,  on  Sunday.  During  the  twenty-three  voyages  which  he 
made  while  captain,  he  had  the  Sabbath  carefully  observed  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
bv  all  on  board,  and  engaged  in  devotional  services.  His  example  is  worthy  of  imi 
tation.  We  believe  it  will  do  good,  both  in  the  forecastle  and  in  the  cabin.— Christian 
Watchman. 


THE  ISLAND  WOULD  OF  THE  PACIFIC: 

BY   REV,    HENRY   T,   CHEEVER, 

WITH  ENGRAVINGS.      12MO,  MUSLIN,  $1.00. 


THIS  is  a  volume  worthy  of  the  age,  and  of  tlie  present  wants  of  the  world.  We  have 
perused  it  with  uinningled  pleasure  and  delight,  and  promise  any  one  who  will  take 
the  trouble  to  open  it,  an  amount  and  richness  of  information  relative  to  the  Polynesian 
world,  to  be  obtained  from  no  other  source.  It  is  copiously  illustrated,  and  written  in 
a  flowing  style,  and  with  the  marks  of  keen  observation,  Christian  philosophy,  and  a 
critical  insight  into  the  world's  woes,  wants,  and  blessing.*,  stamped  on  every  page.  In 
it  are  passages  and  chapters  of  exceeding  beauty  of  description.  The  chapter  on  the 
Albatross,  that  glorious  bird  of  the  sea,  is  worth  the  price  of  the  volume. — American 
Spectator. 

The  volume  presents  a  mass  of  information  with  regard  to  the  history,  geography, 
and  commercial  and  political  condition  of  those  islands,  brought  down  to  the  present 
time,  and  digested  into  a  compact  and  readable  form.  His  book  cannot  fail  to  be  widely 
read  during  the  present  excitement  in  regard  to  every  thing  connected  with  the  Pacilic 
Ocean. — New  York  Tribune. 

The  author  informs  us  that  the  object  of  his  book  is  to  give  a  true  and  life-like  pic 
ture  of  the  best  part  of  Polynesia  as  it  was  in  1850.  He  has  executed  the  task  in  a 
very  creditable  manner.  The  Christian  public  will  welcome  a  volume  from  one  who 
is  able  and  willing  to  tell  the  truth  in  regard  to  those  islands  where  missionary  opera 
tions  have  been  so  successful,  and  yet  the  subject  of  so  much  detraction  and  abuse. 
The  book  contains  much  valuable  information,  connected  with  interesting  anecdotes 
and  personal  adventures.  It  is  illustrated  by  a  score  of  well-executed  engravings. 
The  Appendix,  giving  a  statistical  view  of  the  resources,  trade,  population,  etc.,  of  the 
Hawaiian  Islands,  is  a  valuable  addition. — New  York  Observer. 

It  is  full  of  information  and  life,  telling  stories  of  land  and  se'i  in  a  way  to  stir  the 
passion  for  adventure  without  harm  to  the  sobriety  of  the  reader's  temper,  or  the  stead 
fastness  of  his  faith.  We  need  such  books  always,  and  especially  now,  when  a  new 
age  of  marine  adventure  is  awakened,  and  mr  youth  are  taking  with  fresh  zeal  to  the 
seas.  Voyages  are  always  captivating  to  the  young,  and  happy  is  it  when  the  story  is 
told  by  a  Christian  or  a  man  of  taste.  The  book  is  just  the  thing  for  the  host  of  boys 
between  fourteen  and  twenty,  the  mighty  generation  now  starting  on  the  race  or  voy 
age  of  life. —  Christian  Enquirer. 

A  charming  book,  which  we  can  read  with  confidence  in  the  author's  statements, 
and  with  unflagging  interest  in  the  fresh  scenes  which  they  bring  so  vividly  before  our 
minds.  It  is  a  most  instructive  book  for  young  persons.  The  ocean  paradises  of 
which  it  makes  report  to  us,  will  cro  long  be  visited  by  summer  tourists. —  Unitarian 
Quarterly  Examiner. 

Thoso  interested  in  the  history  of  missions,  as  conducted  in  the  Islands  of  the  Sen, 
will  wish  to  place  this  interesting  and  instructive  volume  both  in  their  home  and 
school  libraries.  Its  style  is  pleasing,  and  as  well  calculated  to  engage  the  attention  of 
the  young  as  the  fascinating  romance,  while,  instead  of  presenting  merely  the  idral,  it 
communicates  the  real  and  the  useful.  The  numerous  engravings  add  to  its  value, 
and  give  an  accurate  view  of  many  points  of  interest  in  these  far-off  islands. — Advocate 
and  Guardian. 

It  is  full  of  pleasing  incident  told  in  a  pleasing  vein,  and  lets  one  deeply  into  the 
reality  of  that  island  life,  whereof  Typee  and  Kaloolah  gave  us  its  myttery  and  ro 
mance.  Melville  threw  around  his  incidents  of  Polynesian  adventure  the  soft,  light, 
and  bright  hues  of  fairy  creation,  reducing  his  story  in  the  minds  of  many  to  a  pure 
myth.  Cheever  dresses  his  personal  adventure  in  the  soberer  garb  of  truth  ;  and  as  he 
leads  us  on  from  group  to  group  of  those  f,ir-off  isles,  he  drops  here  and  there,  al!  along 
the  course  of  his  route,  practical  and  statistical  observations,  that  let  one  deeply  into 
the  true  state  of  these  "  haunts  and  homes"  of  another,  though  a  brother  race. — Ro 
chester  American. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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